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HAZELL & SONS 

BBEWEES 


BY 


ANNIE S. (SWAN),Ix^.''^ww'^ 


AUTHOR OF . 

‘miss Baxter’s bequest,’ ‘t^e secret panel,’ ‘aldersydb,’ 

* GATES OF EDEN,' ‘BBIAB AND PAlll.’ EXa SXa 


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NEW EDITION 



CINCINNATI; 

CRAlMSTrOlSI AND STOWE. 

NBW YORK: 

HUNT ANE E^ATON. 

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CONTENTS. 

0 

chap. paob 

I. DISCORDS, • , , , , , ,7 

ir. MARY HAZELL, , , . . , .17 

III. THE SHADOW ON THE HEARTH, . . , ,27 

IV. NIGHT AND MORNING, . . . . .38 

V. PARADISE ROW, . . . , . ,48 

VI. BEGINNINGS, . . . . , ,58 

VII. PERPLEXITIES, . . . . , .69 

VIII. HEMMED IN, ...... 80 

IX. MADELINE RAYNE, , . . . , .91 

X. CHUMS, . . , . . , .103 

XI. IN THE LIBRARY, ...... 114 

XII. CONTRASTS, ....... 125 

XIII. THE mothers’ MEETING, ... . 135 

XIV. THE WALK HOME, . . . . . .146 

XV. A TRYING HOUR, ...... 156 

XVI. AT DAGGERS DRAWN, . . . . .167 

XVII. GATHERING CLOUDS, . . . . .178 

XVIII. HUSBAND AND WIFE, ..... 189 

XIX. A CRISIS, ....... 199 

XX. DEFIED, 210 

XXI. FANNING THE FIRE, ..... 221 

XXII. THE cashier’s HOME, ..... 231 

XXllI. all’s WELL, . , . . . .241 




HAZELL & SONS. 


CHAPTER I. 

DISCOliDS. 


CLOUD had marred the enjoyment at the 
breakfast- table. The June sunshine, peep- 
ing in through the half-closed Venetians, 
made long lines of light in the pretty room. 
One bright ray sparkled on the silver urn, and touched 
with a golden glory the sweet face of the lady who sat 
behind it. She was quite young ; looking at the three 
persons at the table, it was difficult to determine in 
what relationship she stood towards them. On the 
right sat an elderly gentleman of a fine commanding 
presence, with a splendid head, and a face in which 
benevolence and power were pleasantly commingled. 
Opposite to him sat a younger man, so much resembling 
him that it was easy to guess that they were father and 
son. At the foot of the table sat one still younger, a 

7 




8 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


handsome, fair-haired lad, not long out of his teens. 
It was a family party evidently, but family harmony 
did not seem to prevail. A look of anxiety, of distress, 
even, was visible on the lady’s face, and she nervously 
toyed with the toast on her plate. She had eaten 
nothing, the coffee was cold in her cup, the atmosphere 
at the table had banished any appetite she might have 
had. The elderly gentleman’s brows were knit, his 
firm mouth set in a determined curve, the son opposite 
to him looked grave and concerned also ; only on the 
face of the lad at the foot of the table there sat a 
reckless, defiant look, and he seemed to be partaking of 
a hearty meal with relish. 

‘You are eating nothing, Mrs. Hazell,’ said Kobert 
Hazell, turning kindly to his father’s wife. ‘Let me 
get you something from the sideboard, a slice of ham 
or a morsel of chicken.* 

‘ No, thank you, Kobert, I could not eat it.* 

‘ Yes, Eleanor, get something. Never mind the 
foolish lad,* said Mr. Hazell, unbending his brows a 
little, as he looked towards his wife. ‘ He is not worth 
spoiling one’s breakfast for. But the sooner he learns 
to mend his ways, the better it will be for himself,* 
he added, looking frowningly towards the foot of the 
table. 

‘Much obliged,* was the lad’s cool retort, as he 
emptied his third cup of coffee. He seemed perfectly 
indifferent, in reality he was furiously angry. 

Herbert Hazell was a self-willed, hot-headed youth, 
who hated to be meddled with, or given a word of 
reproof. He had not been behaving well of late. He 


£>/SCOJ^DS. 


9 


had come in during the small hours of the morning for 
the third time within a week, and declined to give any 
explanation of, or apology for, his conduct. His father, 
no doubt, was perfectly justified in administering a 
sharp rebuke, which he had done when they met at 
the table. 

‘ You will please to remember, my lad, that, if 
you have no respect for yourself, I require you to 
respect my wife and myself,’ continued Mr. Hazel 1 
rather haughtily. ‘ If you cannot conform to the rules 
of the house, you must leave it — that’s all. You 
should take an example by your brother, sir, who is 
an honour to all connected with him.’ 

‘ Oh, of course, pile it on ! ’ sneered Herbert, with a 
curious gleam in his eye. ‘ Bob always was a saint, 
and a sneak as well.’ 

Mr. Hazell’s temper rose again, but Eobert Hazell 
only smiled. He did not at all mind anything Herbert 
said, but regarded him rather as a spoiled child than 
anything else. 

‘Never mind him, father,’ he said in that quiet, 
pleasant way of his. ‘ I daresay Herbert will be sorry 
when he thinks over it, and will do differently in 
future. Mrs. Hazell, I saw some roses at Clieveden 
yesterday finer than yours.’ 

‘ Did you ? Tell me about them,’ said Mrs. Hazell, 
lifting a quick, grateful glance to his face. He had a 
fine tact, and often changed the subject when it grew 
distasteful. He knew that the jars between his father 
and his younger brother were disliked and dreaded by 
his father’s wife. It was now twelve months since she 


lO 


HAZELL <S^' SONS, 


had come to Hazelwood, and but for these jars, which 
were increasing instead of diminishing, she would have 
been supremely happy. 

‘ Are they Lucy’s training ? * she asked, with a 
little humorous smile. ‘If they are, I give up the 
contest.’ 

Eobert Hazell laughed. 

‘ No, they are only Guy’s,* he answered. ‘ Mrs. 
Meredith says he is neglecting his business for his 
flowers. His Marshal Neils are simply beyond 
description.’ . 

‘ I must go over and see them. More coffee, 
Herbert?’ 

‘ No.’ 

With which rude refusal Mr. Herbert pushed back 
his chair, and without apology left the room. 

‘ I must be going too,’ said Eobert, making a motion 
to rise, perhaps to cover his brother’s rudeness. ‘ Are 
you coming down just now, father ? ’ 

‘ I will follow you shortly. See that Gregory’s order 
is attended to this morning, will you ? ’ 

‘Yes. Good morning, Mrs. Hazell.’ So saying, 
Eobert Hazell also left the room. 

‘This cannot go on, Eleanor,’ said Mr. Hazell sternly, 
the moment the door closed on them. ‘ The boy’s 
insolence is insufferable. I think I must set him out 
into the world to stand on his own responsibility. 
Things are much too easy for him here. He has too 
much time on his hands, and too much money in his 
pockets.’ 

‘ But to send him away just now would be a mistake, 


DISCORDS, 


II 


I think,* said his wife gently. ‘ It’s not the best thing 
to turn our backs on the erring, is it, Eobert ? ’ 

‘Well, perhaps not; but you know I have tried all 
ways with him, Eleanor, and you know with what 
results,’ said Mr. Hazell irritably. ‘He is not worth 
his salt at the brewery, and there is the evil of his 
example besides. It is not a pleasant thing to have 
one’s sons drinking and gambling with one’s employees 
in Medlington, and I won’t have it — in that I am 
determined.* 

Eleanor Hazell sighed. They were discussing a 
vexed question, which had often, often made dispeace 
in Hazelwood. She had her own thoughts on the 
subject, but she was by nature and habit timid and 
reserved. It was very seldom she ventured an opinion, 
especially one opposed to that expressed by her 
husband. 

‘ I am in hopes that Mary will be able to do some- 
thing with him when she comes home,’ said Mr. Hazell 
presently. ‘ They were always chums, and she bad a 
great influence over him. By the by, she’ll be home 
in a day or two now. Isn’t it to-morrow Eobert goes 
olf to Bonn to fetch her ? * 

‘ Yes, to-morrow.* 

‘ Why that sigh, Eleanor ? Are you dreading Mary’s 
home-coming ? * 

‘Oh, no, not dreading, but I feel anxious, naturally 
anxious. I have supplanted her, Eobert.* 

‘ Oh, don’t talk nonsense,’ said Mr. Hazell in his 
quick way. ‘Supplanted indeed! Mary is my daugh- 
ter, no doubt, but this is my house, and surely I am 


12 


HAZELL SONS. 


master of my own actions. I hope and expect that she 
will do her duty. She is a sensible girl; I am sure 
you will like her. Her brothers adore her/ 

* I know they do. I shall try to do my duty by her, 
Eobert. I hope we shall be happy together.’ 

‘ It was in order that you might grow accustomed to 
Hazelwood, and feel at home with us all first, that I 
sent Mary abroad for a year. She was very sensible 
about it. I am sure, if you are worrying yourself at 
all, it is needlessly, Eleanor.’ 

‘ I am not worrying, but it is impossible for me not 
to be anxious until the meeting is over. Perhaps I 
am a little afraid of Mary. If she is at all like her 
brothers, she must be a clever and noble woman, Eobert.’ 

‘ Mary clever ? Oh yes, she is a splendid linguist 
and musician, as she might be, considering the money I 
have spent on her education. She is a trifle high-flown 
and sentimental, like all schoolgirls. But she’ll marry 
soon, I fancy, and, I expect, become a practical wife 
and mother.’ 

‘ I hope she will not marry for a long time, Eobert. 
I should like her to be happy in her father’s house for 
a while before she marries. If she improves Herbert, 
it will be delightful.’ 

‘ If she doesn’t, he must go, that is all,’ said Mr. 
Hazell curtly. ‘Well, I must go too, Eleanor. Good- 
bye, and don’t worry. I declare these children are a 
greater care now than when they were in the nursery.’ 

‘ Only Herbert. Eobert is a comfort to you — to us all.’ 

‘ Oh yes, Eobert is as good as gold. A trifle slow, 
and with a few antiquated notions perhaps, but trust- 


DISCORDS, 


13 


worthy and conscientious — a great matter in these 
degenerate days/ said Mr. Hazell, as he went out of the 
room. 

When she was left alone, Eleanor Hazell sat still a 
long time at the table, pondering certain things on her 
mind. She was a sensitive woman, and even small cares 
lay heavy on her heart. She was seriously troubled 
about her husband’s younger son. They did not get 
on well together, nay, there were constant feuds between 
them. Herbert, no doubt, was indolent and careless ; 
but Mr. Hazell was hasty and harsh in rebuke, and had 
no mercy where any deviation from the straight line of 
duty was involved. Herbert was hot-tempered ; but 
his father was sometimes unjust. He was blamed often 
without cause ; any mistake or confusion in the counting- 
house was sure to be visited on the ne’er-do-weel, often 
without any investigation being made. Even Robert 
Hazell, steady, diligent, conscientious as he was, found 
it hard at times to get on with his father. They differed 
on a hundred points of opinion ; but there was this 
difference between the two sons : the elder held his 
peace, and never forgot to be respectful, whereas Herbert 
spoke up, whatever occurred to him, whether it was 
becoming or not. Mr. Hazell was a self-made man, a 
man of great business power, and possessing many ad- 
mirable qualities, but he had an overweening pride, a 
domineering and assertive manner, and a quick, arrogant 
temper; he was not, therefore, greatly beloved as a 
master. He was a very rich man, — the Hazell brewery 
was a concern well worth possessing, — but he was hard 
in money matters, and, curiously enough, less generous 


14 


HAZELL <5r» SONS, 


to his own boys than to the strangers in his employ. 
They certainly had board at Hazelwood, but their salary 
was fixed acr/"»-dingly. Although Eobert Hazell was 
worth his weight in gold, and through his tact and 
pleasant way with the men kept the thing going smoothly 
and profitably, he received from his father only a hundred 
a year, and he was twenty-eight years old. He had 
accepted his position meekly for a long time, but the 
time was coming for him to speak. 

Herbert Hazell left the house that morning, as he 
often did, in a violent temper. The delicious breeze 
sweeping up from the river, which watered the spacious 
grounds surrounding the brewer’s fine residence, scarcely 
cooled the angry colour in the young man’s cheeks. He 
was oblivious of the beauty of the summer morning, 
careless of the magnificent view stretching out before 
him ; he walked with his eyes moodily bent on the 
ground, angrily switching the heads off the daisies with 
his cane as he passed. Eobert, leaving the house a few 
minutes after him, overtook him at the lodge gates. 

* You’re in a hurry, Bertie,’ he said pleasantly. * Take 
it easy ; the breakfast hour is not nearly over.’ 

An ominous grunt was Herbert’s only answer. 

‘A fine morning, isn’t it ? Glorious weather for a 
holiday ! I say, Bertie, you might go to Bonn for Molly 
instead of me ; it would be a fine change for you ? * 

‘The governor would cut my head off' if I ventured to 
suggest it might be my turn to have a holiday. No, 
the German trips are only for the good little boys.* 

Eobert laughed. 

‘You’re awfully cross this morning, Bertie.* 


DISCOjRDS. 


15 


‘So would you be if you were treated as I am. I 
haven’t the liberty of a cat. I won’t he dictated to 
and scolded before Mrs. Hazell as I was to-day,’ said 
Herbert savagely. ‘ She rather enjoys it, I know, 
though she looks so mighty soft.’ 

‘ You are not just to her, Bertie. Besides, she has 
nothing to do with the matter ; it is between father and 
you. I don’t wonder he is angry. It is not a very 
nice thing for you to spend your earnings at the “ Base- 
Ball ” every night. Is it now, Bertie ? ’ 

‘ Oh, well, there’s some freedom and fun there any- 
way,’ said the lad moodily. 

‘ Yes, but there’s something else. I am anxious 
about you, Bertie; so will Molly be when she comes 
home.’ 

‘ Oh yes, they’ll tell her a lot of lies about me, and 
then she’ll turn against me, and I won’t care what 
becomes of me. She believes in me yet, anyway. 
There’s no difference in her letters,’ said the lad, with a 
strange mixture of indignation and tenderness. Eobert 
had touched a very soft place in his heart. 

‘ I’ll tell you what, Bert, you’ll go to Bonn to-morrow 
instead of me. I’ll make it all right with father.’ 

‘ I’d like to, but he said I wasn’t fit to have the care 
of my sister. By Jove, I won’t forget that in a hurry ! 
Not fit to take care of Molly, when she’s my chum ! ’ 

‘ Oh, he only spoke hastily, and did not mean any- 
thing by it. Don’t brood on it ; you’ll enjoy the trip 
immensely.’ 

‘ But it’s yours by right ; you’ve worked so jolly hard 
all summer. You’re a good sort. Bob ! ’ 


i6 


HAZELL SONS. 


* So are you, Bert, when you are yourself,* said the 
elder brother affectionately, and their hands met in a 
warm, brotherly grip. There was great good in Herbert 
Hazell ; but he was just on the brink, and needed 
wise and loving guiding to establish him in the 
upright path. 




CHAPTEE IT. 

MARY JIAZELL, 

a fine summer morning two girls were sitting 
in the pleasant garden of a commodious 
chateau in the Coblenzer Strasse at Bonn. 
The chateau pertained to Madame Gebliardt, 
and, though the establishment was a school where the 
tuition was good and the discipline firmly maintained, 
it was likewise a home to all the pupils. They were 
chiefly English girls, for Madame Gebhardt had made a 
reputation abroad. She was a large-hearted, motherly 
woman, and no better proof of her merits was to be 
found than in the fact that every holiday time brought 
one or two former pupils back to pay a visit to their 
old quarters in the Coblenzer Strasse. No lovelier 
situation could be found than that on which the Chateau 
Gebhardt stood. It was on the face of a hill, and 
commanded a view of picturesque Bonn, the winding, 
beautiful river beyond, and the vine-clad slopes of the 
hills on the opposite bank. On a clear morning — and 
it is nearly always clear in that sunny -land— the seven 
mountains at Xouigs winter could be seen, with the 



i8 


HAZELL SONS. 


picturesque Castle of the Drachenfels standing on its 
commanding height. 

The two companions, sitting together on the terrace, 
under the grateful shadow of a chestnut tree, were 
watching for the steamboat coming up the river from 
Cologne. They had just observed it gliding round the 
curve at Konigswinter, and had laid their glasses on an 
empty chair beside them. They were both young, just 
on the threshold of womanhood, and they were close 
and dear friends, though there w^as, outwardly at least, 
little in common between them. Mary Hazell was the 
taller of the two — a handsome, graceful girl, with a 
clear and beautiful complexion, bright brown hair, and 
a pair of large, calm, grey eyes. There was a dignity 
and repose in her whole bearing which might have 
belonged to one twice her years. Her movements were 
quiet, but graceful and ladylike ; she looked like one 
who had had a large experience of life — but she was 
only a schoolgirl, in her twenty-first year. 

Her companion was of small, insignificant stature, 
and her figure was not in any way enhanced by the 
shabby black dress slie wore. Her face was sallow and 
large-featured ; her black hair coiled low at her neck 
gave the appearance of too much weight to the head. 

But the undoubted plainness of her features was 
redeemed by the beauty of her eyes, which was remark- 
able. I cannot describe it — because it was the beauty 
of expression rather than of form or colour, though 
those were in keeping. A soul looked out .from these 
eyes — the soul of a woman who had suffered, but had 
retained the highest ideal of life. She was Madeline 


MARY HAZELL. 


19 


or Lena Eayne, only an English governess at the 
Chateau Gebhardt, but the friend of Mary Hazell, 
the sweet English girl, who was the greatest favourite 
in the school. 

‘ I cannot really believe that it is at an end, and that 
I have no more lessons to learn, Lena,’ said Mary Hazell, 
leaning her soft white hand against her cheek. 

‘ Except the lessons of life, in comparison with which 
school-tasks are only play,’ Lena Eayne answered, more 
to herself than to her friend. 

‘ Perhaps you are right. I shall be sorry to leave dear 
Bonn,’ said Mary, and her eyes filled. ‘ But I feel that 
I can learn nothing more here, and that it is time I led 
a more active life. I have great plans for the future, Lena.’ 

‘ Yes. Tell me what they are,’ said the governess, 
with a slight, sweet smile, as she folded her hands in 
her lap. She had ceased to plan, and now lived in the 
life of others. There were times when she told herself 
that her life-work seemed to be done — if, indeed, any 
had ever been ordered for her. She was quiescent in 
her present state, but not happy. 

‘ Oh, there are so many it would take days to tell 
them. Some of them are quixotic, but all of them 
point in the right way. I mean to do some good in 
Medlington, Lena.’ 

‘ Yes. Tell me how.’ 

‘ Oh, 1 can hardly specify ; I shall find ways and 
means. I have heard you say often that we find the 
way when the heart is willing. You have not gone 
back on that old teaching, have you V asked Mary, with 
a smile. 


20 


HAZELL ^ SONS. 


‘No. It is true. I hope your way will be sunny 
and untroubled all your days, Mary/ said the governess, 
with evident emotion. 

‘ I wonder if that is a good hope, Lena/ said Mary 
Hazell, and her sweet face grew earnest and grave. 
‘ Do you not think we need other things than sunshine 
to develop our characters ? I sometimes think we are 
just like the flowers, to whom the “ useful trouble of 
the rain ” is absolutely essential.’ 

‘ That is a beautiful thought, and a true one, Mary ; 
but one cannot help wushing the very best for those one 
loves.’ 

‘ You cannot, Lena, you are so unselfish/ said Mary 
Hazell involuntarily, and she laid her hand on that of 
her friend as she spoke. ‘ I wonder when your turn for 
the sunshine is to come ? ’ 

‘ In God’s time ; and, if never, then that will be best/ 
said the governess simply, and as if the words were but 
the expression of a heart’s conviction. ‘ I should like 
to hear something definite about your plans, Mary, so 
that I, working here, may be able to picture you working 
yonder — both, I trust, for the same end. We have 
pledged ourselves, have we not, to do what we can 
earnestly, and, as we have opportunity, to make our 
own lives noble, and those of others as happy as our 
influence can make them ? ’ 

‘ Yes/ answered Mary Hazell, as her eyes watched 
the flashing of the sunlight on the swift-flowing Ehine, 
— ‘ yes, we have.’ 

Terhaps as Siie spoke a vague premonition that she 
was about to begin the ascent of the Hill of Difficulty 


MARY HAZEm 


21 


touched her heart. ‘ I cannot be very definite until I 
go home, Lena. I fancy it will depend entirely upon 
my position in my father’s house as to the exact nature 
of the work I may undertake. I have to make the 
acquaintance of Mrs. Hazell on the very threshold of 
my new life.’ 

‘ Yes, but I think she will be a help to you, and you 
to her. Is it among the poor of the town you intend 
to work ? ’ 

‘Yes ; there are a great many poor people in Med- 
lington, and a great many miserable and hopeless lives. 
It is over-populated, and the depression in trade has 
painfully affected it. Some of the works have been 
closed for months.’ 

‘Ah, then, you will find enough to do. I do not 
want to bring our conversation to an end, Mary, but 
had you not better go down to the pier now ? See, the 
steamer has passed Ilheinberg.’ 

‘ Oh yes, I must go. Where is the glass ? I believe 
I can distinguish Herbert on the deck. I shall delight to 
introduce my brother to you. He is a handsome fellow.* 

‘ He must be, if he is like you,’ said the governess, 
with a smile. The compliment was sincere. She thought 
Mary Hazell one of the loveliest girls she had ever seen. 

‘ Such sweet words won’t fit me for the stern battle 
of life, Lena,’ Mary said merrily. ‘ Come, get your hat, 
Lena, and let us go down together. Herbert and I will 
have plenty of time to talk family matters on the way 
home. I cannot understand why he should have come 
instead of Eobert. I hope there is nothing wrong with 
him! 


22 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


The holiday season had begun, and even Lena Eayne 
was free to dispose of the greater part of her time as 
she pleased. She had a few duties to perform for 
Madame in return for her board during the recess, for 
the English governess had no home and no friends with 
whom to spend the time to which her pupils looked 
forward so joyously. Perhaps she had grown accustomed 
to the loneliness of her life, to the lack of the close, 
sweet human relationships and interests her nature 
could so dearly have prized ; but there were occasional 
moments when her heart failed her, when she felt that 
the days were a burden and a weariness, and that there 
was no soul on earth so desolate as she. The friend- 
ship of Mary Hazell had been like a heaven-sent gift to 
the governess, and she dreaded the year to come when 
the Chateau Gebhardt would be rid of that bright 
presence. Though Mary Hazell was a thoughtful girl, 
she was neither dull nor morbid. Her mind was per- 
fectly healthy — she had a keen sense of humour and a 
happy disposition, and she was neither frivolous nor 
flippant. She had early begun to study the problems 
of existence, and had a high ideal of life. It is a great 
thing to have a noble ideal ; even though wo may never 
reach it, there is much that beautifies and ennobles in 
the very striving. It is always glorious to look up. I 
would have every young heart take Excelsior for a 
watchword. 

The two friends, arm in sfrm, went down the shady 
walk through the pleasant gardens, and reached the pier 
just as the steamer touched it. It was crowded with 
passengers, the season having commenced propitiously. 


MARY HAZELL. 


23 


but in a moment Mary’s quick eye detected her brother’s 
handsome figure among the crowd. Lena Rayne drew 
back when he stepped on the gangway, and turned 
away her head, not wishing to intrude on their meeting. 
Then she began to move slowly on again towards the 
garden gate, leaving them to follow. 

‘ Holloa, Molly, you are looking grand,’ said Herbert 
Hazell in his off-hand way, as he took his sister on his 
arm. ‘ And how are you ? ’ 

‘Oh, delightfully well, as everybody is here. Isn’t 
Bonn lovely ? But why did you sail up from Cologne, 
you stupid boy ? Confess you saw nothing.’ 

‘ Saw ! I’ve been perfectly savage. How dare they 
perpetrate such a fraud on the public. It should be 
exposed.’ 

‘ But all the Rhine worth seeing is between Bonn 
and Mayence. You should have come here by train. 
But never mind. How are they all, and why did you 
come instead of Bob ? ’ 

‘ Oh, Bob sent me. The governor and I have not 
been sailing in the same boat lately, and there’s a dry- 
ness, to put it mildly,^ said Herbert. 

‘ What about ? I am afraid it must be your fault, 
Bertie ; papa is so good.’ 

‘ He used to be when we were little. He forgets 
that we have grown just a trifle beyond his authority. 
I don’t think I’m going to stay at home after this 
summer,’ said Herbert, with a lofty indifference. 

‘Not stay at home!’ echoed Mary blankly. This 
was bad news to meet her at the outset. ‘ Why, where 
would you go ? ’ 


24 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


‘ Colonies/ answered Herbert briefly. 

‘ Oh, Bertie Hazell, you’ll never do such a thing ! * 

‘ Won’t I ? I’m not going to be treated like a child. 
Besides, what do we get at home ? There’s Bob, as 
sweet as he can be on Lucy Meredith, and can’t say a 
word because he hasn’t a sixpence to bless himself 
with.’ 

‘ Lucy Meredith ! Oh, how nice ! She is a dear girl/ 
said Mary, with all a girl’s ready interest in a love 
affair. ‘ I cannot imagine Bob ; he’s so quiet and 
staid/ 

‘ Not like me — falling in love with every pretty 
face,’ laughed Herbert in his careless way. ‘ Say, 
who’s this old party hanging about before us ? Not 
your school-marm, is it ? 

‘ Oh no ; that is Lena Bayne/ 

‘ That the paragon you’ve been raving about this 
long time ? Well, my dear, she may be good, but, even 
by stretching the imagination, she could not be called 
beautiful.’ 

‘ Hush ; she will hear you. You will think her 
lovely when you know her. Before we get to her, 
Bert, do you think I could take it upon me to invite 
her to Hazelwood ? ’ 

‘Why should you not? 

‘ Oh, you know, would Mrs. Hazell like it ? ’ 

‘ Oh, I think she would ; she’s hospitable enough ; 
but I can’t say I admire your taste in friends, Mary. 
What a dowdy ! ’ 

Mary’s cheeks were naturally a little red when 
presently she was called upon to introduce a friend to 


MARY HAZELL, 


25 


her brother. At that moment it seemed to Mary’s 
vexed spirit Lena Eayne showed to the least possible 
advantage. Her manner was stiff and constrained — her 
very expression seemed dull and uninterested. 

Altogether, Herbert had succeeded in a very few 
minutes in putting his sister thoroughly out of sorts. 
Herbert Hazell paid very little attention to Lena Eayne 
that morning at Bonn. I do not suppose one of the 
three had the faintest prevision what influence she was 
to exert on his future life. There came a time, how- 
ever, when Herbert Hazell blessed the day he had first 
seen Madeline Eayne. 

‘ I am afraid things are not just quite harmonious at 
home, Lena,’ said Mary Hazell an hour later, when she 
was gathering the last of her belongings together in the 
little room on the balcony, where many a night they 
had watched the Ehine by moonlight, and discussed life 
in all its bearings. ‘1 have a feeling as if I were going 
home to a great deal of worry.’ 

‘ If so, don’t anticipate it. Time enough to face it 
when you cannot help it,’ said Lena cheerfully. ‘ You 
have decided to go straight home ; you are disappointed 
in your trip up to Mayence ? ’ 

‘ Yes. It is most unaccountable of papa not to have 
sent any money ; I can’t understand it. Bertie and he 
have been quarrelling, I fear. Isn’t it horrid ? ’ 

‘ Perhaps you will smooth all unpleasantness away, 
as you have so often done here,’ said the governess. 
‘ You will not forget me, Mary ? ’ 

‘ How dare you ask such a question ? ’ asked Mary 
Hazell quickly, and her bright eyes grew dim. ‘ How, 


26 


HAZELL (Sr' SONS. 


Lena, promise me that if I say come, you will come. 
Of course I do not know how things will be at home ; 
but I hope, and I think, everything will be right. 
Hazelwood used to be a very hospitable house.’ 

‘ When you send for me, I will come, Mary. Good- 
bye. God bless you,’ said Madeline, and for a moment 
emotion overcame her. 

‘ Good-bye. God bless you for all you have been and 
done for me, Madeline Eayne. You have made me a 
better woman. Anything worthy I may be. or do, my 
darling, I shall owe to you,’ 




CHAPTEE III. 

THE SHADOW ON THE HEARTH. 


HE supper tray had just been brought into the 
drawing-room. As the maid set it on the 
table and withdrew, the timepiece chimed 
the half-hour after ten. Mr. Hazell threw 
aside the magazine he had been reading, and sat up in 
his chair. 

‘Shut the piano, Mary, and let us have a mouthful 
of supper and get to bed,’ he said in his quick way. 
‘ Eleanor, what will you take ? ’ 

‘ Milk, if Kitty has brought it. Is there any there, 
Mary ? ' 

‘ Yes, mamma ; here it is.* 

Mary rose, set a glass of milk on a small salver, and 
carried it to Mrs. Hazell’s sofa. She was not strong, 
and of late had been obliged to spend the greater part 
of the day on the sofa. She was a sweet, uncomplaining 
invalid, who gave as little trouble as possible, and was 
grateful for every small attention. 

‘ Thank you, my love,’ she said, as she took the glass 
from Mary’s hand. Their eyes met in a smile of 

S7 



28 


HAZELL SONS. 


mutual love. Between these two women there was an 
absolute understanding and an absolute trust. Mary 
Hazell had found in her father’s wife an abiding and 
precious friend. 

‘ A biscuit, mamma ? Here are some of cook’s 
famous cocoa chips. Do have one ? ' 

‘ No, thank you. What is Eobert busy with ? ’ 

' The dissipation of a novel, I think,’ returned Mary, 
glancing at the corner where Eobert sat, apparently 
engrossed in the book he held in his hand, — only 
apparently ; in reality he was thinking of something 
more serious than an imaginary love-story. 

‘ I didn’t want anything, thank you,’ he said quietly, 
and, rising from his chair, looked out of the window. 
‘ It is a wet night,’ he added ; ‘ that southerly wind will 
blow a gale before morning.’ 

‘ No fear of it. We haven’t many gales in September,’ 
said Mr. Hazell, as he finished his repast ‘ A little 
sherbet, Mary ?’ 

‘ Oh no, thank you, papa,’ answered the girl quickly, 
and the colour rose slightly in her cheek. 

‘ You are all very abstemious,’ he said. ‘ Eleanor, 
there is nothing in that acid draught to refresh you. 
You ought to have some wine in it. Let me ring 
for some.’ 

‘ No, thank you, Eobert. I like it as it is,’ returned 
his wife. 

‘ If everybody followed the example of my household, 
we might shut up shop, eh, Bob ? Well, if you have all 
done, we’d better go. Lock the door, Eobert, as you go 
down.’ 


THE SHADOW ON THE HEARTH 


29 


‘ But, papa, Bertie has not come in/ Mary said 
quickly. 

‘ Put the bolts in as well/ added Mr. Hazell, ignoring 
her protest. ‘ Are you ready to go up-stairs, Eleanor ? ’ 

‘ Yes, but the door must not be locked till Herbert 
comes in, dear. There is no use troubling the servants.’ 

‘ They will not he troubled/ answered Mr. Hazell 
grimly. ‘ They have had their orders. Wait till eleven, 
Eobert, and then do as I have told you. Good-night, 
Mary/ 

Mary HazelTs face was wet with tears as she received 
her father’s good-night kiss. 

‘ Oh, papa, don’t lock him out ! ’ she pleaded. ‘ Let 
me sit up for him/ 

‘My patience is quite exhausted. I have warned 
him in vain, and I must show my authority in some 
fashion,’ was Mr. Hazell’s curt rejoinder. ‘ Eemember 
the bolts, Eobert.’ 

‘ Very well. Good-night,’ Eobert answered. ‘ Good- 
night, Mrs. Hazell.’ 

Mary threw herself into a low rocking-chair, and her 
tears flowed in earnest. Her brother came to the 
hearth, and stood leaning against the mantelshelf with 
his arms folded across his chest. His brows were knit, 
his fine eyes troubled in their depths. 

‘ Don’t distress yourself so, Molly/ he said kindly. 
‘ Let us talk over this unhappy business. What is te 
be done now ? ’ 

‘ I don’t know. Bob. Papa is so dreadfully hard on 
Bertie. I believe it makes him worse.’ 

‘ He is a little hard, but he has grave reason to be 


30 


HAZELL (5r» SONS, 


displeased. I am afraid the lad is completely led away. 
Nothing seems to influence him/ said the elder brother 
sadly. 

Both were silent for a moment. Curiously, or, 
perhaps, naturally enough, the thoughts of each had run 
into one groove. 

‘ Bob, is it for Bertie’s sake you take nothing ? I 
have noticed of late that you do not even taste wine 
at dinner.’ 

‘ Yes, that is my reason. I wish papa could see 
that it would be better not to have it in the house.’ 

‘ Have you ever spoken of it to him ? ’ 

‘ Never. He would resent it, I am sure.’ 

Mary Hazell said no more for a few moments. By 
slow degrees various convictions were coming home to 
her. She had begun of late to study cause and effect, 
with the result that she was discontented and miserable. 
She had begun to have grave doubts about the business 
which bore her father’s name. In her endeavours to be 
loyal to him, she had tried to banish these doubts, but 
they were often uppermost in her mind. 

‘ I should be afraid to interfere. Papa is very 
different from what he used to be,’ she said presently. 
‘ But I could ask mamma to speak about it to him. 
She is on our side, I know.’ 

‘ Mrs. Hazell is not without cares,’ said Eobert, with 
a slight smile. * Those who blamed her for marrying 
for money and position need not envy her. But she is 
a sweet woman. I have the highest admiration and 
respect for her.’ 

‘ I love her,’ said Mary warmly. ‘ Do you know 


THE SHADOW ON THE HEARTH 


31 


what I have thought, sometimes, Bob ? that if Bertie 
would fall in love with some nice girl it would steady 
him.’ 

‘ I believe it would ; but he does not seem to have 
met that nice girl yet. I wish some influence would 
work with him. I am afraid, Molly, that as long as 
he remains here he has no chance. He has not the 
courage, even if he had the desire, to break with his 
bad companions, and then father is entirely out of 
sympathy with him. He will not even give him the 
credit for the slightest leaning towards anything good. 
A man soon loses his own self-respect when he sees 
himself contemptible in the eyes of others.’ 

‘ That is true. I cannot understand papa. Bob. He 
is so very different : he is not like the same man. 
Hasn’t he grown irritable and changeable, and so hard 
of heart ? What do you suppose has so changed 
him ? ’ 

Eobert Hazell shook his head. He knew the reason 
very well, but one care lay heavily enough on his 
sister’s heart. No need to add another to it. 

‘ Bob, is there any truth in what Bertie told me at 
Bonn in June, that you admire Lucy Meredith ?’ asked 
Mary, with a smile and slightly heightened colour. 
‘ If we had not been away at Sandgate these two 
months, I should have found out for myself by this 
time. Do tell me.’ 

‘ Yes, I admire Lucy Meredith, Mary. If I were in 
a position, I should ask her to-morrow to be my wife.’ 

‘ But you can be in a position if you like, Eobert. 
Papa will make you a partner, I am sure. He is very 


32 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


rich, is he not ? and the brewery can easily support 
two establishments/ 

‘ There is plenty of money in the concern certainly, 
Mary; but I don’t think I could or would take a 
partnership in it/ 

‘ Why not ? ’ 

She spoke eagerly, almost dreading to hear from 
him a confirmation of her own fear. If Eohert, who 
was always right in his judgments, had arrived at the 
conclusion that the business in which their father had 
made his money was a doubtful concern, she would 
feel as if the foundation of things were being shaken. 
It would involve so many vexed questions, for which it 
would be difficult to find an answer. 

‘ I don’t- know whether it is Herbert’s frailty, Mary; 
but I do know I have had some curious thoughts of 
late. If I could have chosen my career, it would have 
been different.’ 

‘ But you could never leave the brewery now. Bob. 
Papa is getting an old man, and Bertie so unsteady. 
It would not be right to leave him.’ 

‘ That is just the point I cannot decide, Mary.’ 

‘ It is the Merediths who have given you these ideas,’ 
she said quickly, forgetting her own qualms in her 
anxiety to set her brother right regarding his duty to 
his father. ‘ Aren’t they teetotallers ? ’ 

‘ Yes, but I have never had any trouble with them 
on the subject,’ returned Eobert quietly. ‘No, it is 
nothing any one has said, Mary. It is a settled con- 
viction which has made me a very unhappy man of 
late.’ . ^ 


THE SHADOW ON THE HEARTH 


33 


Mary sighed. 

" How full of care life is, Robert ! I sometimes wish 
I had never grown up. I came home anxious to do 
some good in the world, but there seem to be hindrances 
on every side.’ 

‘ Don’t be so doleful, Molly ; you do a great deal o.‘ 
good. Why, you are the sunshine of this house.’ 

‘ Am I ? I don’t feel very like it. Are you going 
to sit up for Bertie ? ’ 

‘ Of course.’ 

* And let him in ? ’ 

* Yes ; why not ? ’ 

‘ But I thought papa very peremptory.* 

* Oh, he would be the first to regret his harshness in 
the morning if it were carried out,’ said Robert lightly. 
‘ Go you to bed, Mary ; you look very tired.’ 

‘ Yes, I am going,’ she said, rising reluctantly to her 
feet. ‘ Bob, what is it Bertie does when he is out so 
late ? Where does he spend his time ? ’ 

‘ Between the “ Base-Ball ” and a billiard club in 
Sand ford Street. Chiefly at the latter place, I fancy. 
He is a lucky player, evidently, though I have never 
spoken to him on the subject. lie must win, however, 
or they would not keep him there. He could not pay 
up his losses.’ 

' And who are his companions ? ’ 

‘ Don’t ask me, Molly ; it would not make you any 
happier. Run off to bed. Good-night.’ 

‘ Good-night, Bob. What a comfort you are ! ’ she 
said affectionately, as she laid her hands on his 
shoulders to bid him good -night. Then she went 

3 


34 


HAZELL ^ SONS. 


slowly up-stairs to her own room, and sat down at the 
window, leaned her arm on the sill, and looked out 
into the night. A harvest moon had risen gloriously in 
the clear sky. Every object, even for miles round, was 
clearly discernible. She could have counted the steeples 
in Medlington, and could almost distinguish the hour on 
the town-hall clock. She admired the prospect in a 
half-hearted way, for her thoughts were with the prodigal 
who was causing such anxiety and dispeace in the house. 
We may take a peep at his occupation and surroundings. 

The streets of Medlington were almost empty. The 
policemen and the night wanderers had the town to 
themselves. The public-houses, however, were not yet 
closed, and when their frequenters were turned out the 
scene no doubt would be livelier. The ‘ Base-Ball ’ was 
the favourite place of refreshment in Medlington, and 
was largely frequented by young men. It was con- 
sidered a most respectable house, and never was the 
scene of any disorderly proceedings. But the harm done 
by that select and decorous establishment was a thousand 
times more insidious than in the lower class shops. It 
had been the ruin of many members of the youth of 
Medlington. It was situated in a quiet street, within 
a stone’s throw of the Hazcll brewery. That gigantic 
structure, which occupied nearly half an acre of ground 
in the most thickly-populated part of the town, loomed 
like a vast shadow over the place. It was a great 
industry of its kind, and gave employment to more than 
a thousand hands. 

At half-past ten on the night when Mr. Hazell had 
given peremptory orders that Herbert should be locked 


THE SHADOW ON THE HEARTH. 


35 


out, that young man was enjoying himself in his own 
fashion in a certain upper chamber not very far from 
the ‘ Base-Ball/ It was the billiard-room, or, more 
properly speaking, the gambling club alluded to by 
Eobert Hazell. Although not generally known, this 
club was a part of the ‘ Base-Ball ’ concern, and all 
belonged to a widow lady who had a reputation for 
piety and good works. She did not come much into 
the vicinity of the ‘ Base-Ball ’ or the club-rooms, her 
only connection with these institutions being that she 
drew in the handsome revenues accruing from them. 
These she spent lavishly, not only on her tasteful and 
beautiful home in the suburbs, but on charitable and 
religious objects. The Church knew her as a munificent 
benefactress, and worshipped her accordingly ; she lived 
in an odour of sanctity and honour ; none of the vile 
odours or questionable attributes of the twin establish- 
ments in Sandford Street were permitted to touch her 
She had a manager who did all unpleasant things for 
her, and if he feathered his own nest in the process 
well, perhaps it was excusable. The profits left a margin 
considerable enough to allow even Miles Gregory to help 
himself. 

The club-room was approached by an unpretending 
doorway judiciously darkened, so as not to attract 
attention. 

The door was locked, and only opened in response to 
a familiar signal, known only to those who frequented 
the place. Within this door there was a narrow stair, 
dimly lighted by a shaded oil lamp, hung from the roof. 
On the landing at the head of the stair there were three 


36 


HAZELL SONS, 


doors. From the chinks of the one in the middle 
brilliant streams of light revealed that within it was 
brilliantly illuminated. It was a small place, and, if it 
was a billiard-roorn, it belied its name. The only visible 
means of amusement was a baccarat table in the middle 
of the floor, round which ten or a dozen young men 
were gathered, intent on watching the game. 

At the fireplace, with his hands complacently placed 
behind his back, stood an elderly gentleman of apparently 
respectable appearance, benignly watching the successes 
of the bank. Mr. Miles Gregory had an interest in the 
game, but he had an admirable command of his features. 
He could lose, and smile all the time. 

The players, with one or two exceptions, were 
gentlemanly young fellows, and some of them mere 
lads. An unhealthy excitement glittered in their eyes, 
and more than one hand was unsteady with the effects 
of the liquor, which was to be had in abundance. 

‘ Hurry up, gentlemen,’ said Mr. Gregory, smiling 
placidly. ‘ Ten minutes to eleven. Come ; you’ll need 
to be going immediately.’ 

‘ I’m cleaned out, Gregory — I must have another 
chance, and I will, though I should stop here till mid- 
night,’ said Herbert Hazell. ‘ I’ve nothing to bet but my 
watch — ten pounds on it, Gregory ? It’s a gold repeater.’ 

‘ Oh, well, ten pounds be it,’ said that worthy com- 
placently. 

‘ Don’t go it, Hazell,’ whispered a round-faced, red- 
cheeked lad in Herbert’s ear. ‘ Come on out. You’re 
drunk ; you’re not fit to play. I say, Gregory, he doesn’t 
know what he’s doing.’ 


THE SHADOW ON THE HEARTH. 


37 


* Oh, nonsense ! see his steady hand. Gentlemen, I 
appeal to you to uphold me when I say Mr. Hazell is 
quite sober.* 

* Of course I’m quite sober ! Here goes,’ said Hazell 
excitedly, as he watched the dealing of the cards. 

The bank had been winning steadily. In about half 
an hour, when eleven o’clock struck, the gold repeater 
was among its gains. 

* I’ll keep it safe till you pay up, Mr. Hazell,’ said 
Gregory smoothly, as he slipped the valuable article into 
his capacious breast-pocket. ‘How, gentlemen, good- 
night. Hoskins, put out the gases.’ 

‘ I haven’t a cent to bless myself with. Tommy,’ 
groaned Herbert Hazell as he staggered down-stairs after 
the lad who had warned him, ‘ and I’m ten pounds in 
debt. If I don’t turn up to-morrow night and clean 
out that Gregory ! He’s the biggest scoundrel in 
existence. They cheat in the shuffling, don’t you think ? ’ 

Tommy made no reply. He was a clergyman’s son, 
and he was wondering how he should slip into the 
Eectory without his father’s knowledge ; also where he 
was to get the wherewithal to pay certain sums he owed 
to Mr. Miles Gregory and his colleagues. 



CHAPTER IV. 

NIGHT AND MORNING. 


HE two companions parted at the corner of 
the street, but Herbert Hazell did not turn 
towards his home. To reach Hazelwood he 
had to cross the bridge over the Med, and 
walk up the opposite bank of the river for some distance. 
The brewer’s residence was quite in the outskirts of the 
town. Herbert HazelTs head was perfectly dazed — he 
did not know what he was about. He fancied himself 
on the way home ; in reality he was walking as fast as 
his^unsteady gait v^ould allow him quite in the opposite 
direction. He kept close by the bank of the river ; the 
swift-flowing stream had for him a curious fascination. 
Once or twice he stood still, and watched its rapid flow, 
and his form even swayed towards it. A special provi- 
dence beyond a doubt saved his life that night. And 
yet he did not premeditate self-destruction, only he had 
lost control over his own actions. He felt dazed, stupid, 
and miserable ; the cold, clear night wind blowing on his 
fevered temples did not seem to have the power to sweep 
the mists from his brain ; he had a vague idea that he 



NIGHT AND MORNING, 


39 


had lost everything, and that he felt ashamed to go 
home. He grew weary at length, and wondered why 
the way home seemed so unnaturally long. He stood 
still, and, looking around him, failed to recognise any 
familiar landmark. There was not a house in sight, he 
seemed to be quite in the country, and his surroundings 
were entirely new to him. Involuntarily he put his 
hand to his breast-pocket to see what o’clock it was. 
Of course his watch was gone. It was bitterly cold, as 
it so often is betwixt darkness and dawn. It was nearly 
two o’clock in the morning. The young man could not 
reason out the mysteries of his surroundings ; he felt 
stupified and drowsy, and at length, succumbing to that 
feeling, lay down under a tree, and fell asleep, with the 
hard ground for a pillow and the night dews for a 
covering. 

Meanwhile Eobert Hazell still kept his vigil at home, 
and Mary sat by her uncurtained window straining her 
eyes for the wanderer who never came. About two 
o’clock she was startled by the opening of a window or 
door on the lower flat. She threw up the sash of her 
own window, and looked out. Just then Eobert emerged 
from the library window, which opened down to the 
ground in two halves, like a folding door. 

‘ Is that you, Eobert ? Where are you going ? ’ she 
asked in a quick whisper. 

" Are you not in bed yet ? ’ he asked in surprise. 
‘ I’m going to look for Bertie. I’m getting anxious 
about him. He has never been so late.’ 

‘ Where can he be ? Can anything have happened 
to him ? ’ 


40 


HAZELL ^ SONS. 


‘ I don’t think so. Go to bed, like a good girl, and 
try to sleep.’ 

‘ Sleep ! Oh, Bob, I couldn’t ! I am in misery. Will 
you wait for me, and I’ll come too ? ’ 

‘ No, you must not. Go and lie down. I’ll only go 
the length of the club. I have heard they sometimes 
play there after midnight. Don’t distress yourself.’ 

‘I keep thinking of the river,’ she said, with a 
shiver. ‘ The parapet is so low at the bridge, and the 
bank so steep all the way along to our gates. Do 
let me come ! ’ 

‘ You would rouse the house, and I don’t want papa 
to know of this at all, if it can be avoided. Do what I 
tell you, Mary. I assure you I am advising you for 
the best.’ 

So saying, he walked quickly away. Mary shut the 
window again, wrapped a shawl round her, and sat down 
to wait. 

The thought about the river had also occurred to 
Eobert Hazell, and, though he tried to banish it, he 
found himself unconsciously watching it as he made his 
way to the town. The misery of his anxiety made him 
angry with his brother, who was not only his own 
enemy, but a source of unspeakable care to all connected 
with him. 

Eobert Hazell tried to be gentle with the weakness 
he could scarcely understand. The temptations which 
overcame his brother had not the slightest influence on 
him, but he was not self-righteous. He had a fine 
nature — generous, sympathetic, and full of compassion 
Por the erring. Perhaps the harshness of his father’s 


NIGHT AND MORNING. 


41 


judgments had taught him a lesson. But for Robert 
Hazcll there had not been such harmony at the brewery. 
There was not a man within its gates who would not 
serve the young master with a cheerful alacrity, while 
to the old master they gave no more than his pound of 
flesh. Robert Hazell reached the club-house in Sand- 
ford Street without meeting a living soul. As he stood 
before the dark, deserted-looking house he could hear 
the measured tread of the policeman on his beat further 
up the street. It ended, he knew, just at the brewery 
gates. There was no sign of light or occupation in the 
club-rooms ; if there were still players within, they had 
taken every precaution to conceal their presence. He 
waited a few moments, and then went up the street 
towards the policeman. That worthy came forward 
quickly at sight of a man approaching, but, recognising 
him, he stopped in amazement and touched his hat. It 
was not a common sight to see Mr. Robert Hazell in 
such a locality in the small hours of the morning. 

‘You are surprised to see me, Crockett. Do you 
think it possible there can he any one in Gregory’s 
billiard-rooms at this time ? ’ 

‘Quite possible, sir. I’ve known it happen afore, 
but there ain’t any one to-ni|ht,.hecos' i tvatched Gregory 
lock up myself after eleven, and I saw some gentlemen 
leave then.’ 

‘ My brother among them, Crockett ? ’ 

‘Yes, sir; him and Young went up the street 
together. Excuse me sayin’ it, sir, but Mr. Hazell seemed 
to have had more than was good for him. He couldn’t 
walk steady.’ 


4 


42 


HAZELL (Sr- SONS. 


‘ That is nearly four hours ago, and he hasn’t come 
home. I am very anxious, Crockett.’ 

‘ Oh, don’t be, sir. He was just in that state that 
he’d drop down anywhere to sleep it off,’ said the police- 
man cheerfully. ‘Nothin’s happened him, take my 
word for it.’ 

‘ But, if he was in the state you describe, might he 
not fall into the river ? ’ 

‘Never a bit of him. It’s when they’re in the 
horrors they jump in. Mr. Robert, I know all the 
ways of it. It’s a bad corner that Gregory’s, sir.* 

‘Ay, it is. It has ruined many another besides my 
poor brother.’ 

‘ Oh, but Mr. Herbert ’ll pick up yet ; he’s not quite 
gone,’ said Crockett cheerfully still. ‘ Gregory’s that 
cunning, sir, the law can’t touch him. But I hope his 
turn ’ll come.’ 

‘ What would you advise me to do, Crockett ? ’ 

‘ Go home to bed, sir. ’Tain’t no use in the world 
wandering the streets to-night. Take my word for it, 
Mr. Herbert ’ll turn up all right. I’ll look about, and, 
if I see him. I’ll bring him home.’ 

‘Very well, Crockett. You need not speak of this.’ 

‘ Oh, I never dOy sir. Bless you, we see so much. 
If I was to tell all I see, I’d set this town by the ears, 
and it ’ud be too hot to hold me. They talk of London, 
sir, but it can’t hold a candle to Medlington, and I 
walked a beat for seven years at Trafalgar Square. 
There’s mean, sneakin’ ways in little towns, sir, that 
London ’ud be ashamed of. You see, every one lives 
ill terror o’ his neighbours fetchin’ out any o’ his little 


NIGHT AND MORNING. 


43 


pecooliarities, where, in London, nobody knows anybody, 
an’ people do jes’ as they like.’ 

Eobert Hazell smiled at the man’s worldly wisdom, 
and, bidding him good-night, walked off. As he crossed 
the bridge, the first faint streaks of the dawn were 
tinging the east with a touch of light. Involuntarily 
he stood still to look for a moment at the mystery of 
the dawn, which he now saw for the first time. 

When he reached home, he found Mary still 
sitting, white-faced and anxious-eyed, at her window. 
She slipped down-stairs when she heard him come in, 
and heard all that he could tell. Up-stairs Mr. Hazell 
was in a dead slumber, but his wife’s strained ear 
caught every sound and movement, and she thought 
Herbert had come home. At breakfast next morning 
Herbert, of course, did not appear. Mr. Hazell, how- 
ever, made no remark. It was not a very unusual 
occurrence for him. More than once he had not 
come to the dining-room till the others had left it. 
Eobert wished, if possible, to hide Bertie’s escapade 
from his father. He knew it would make a terrible 
disturbance, and perhaps a breach between them. For 
the sake of Mary and Mrs. Hazell, he wished an out- 
ward semblance of peace preserved. Mr. Hazell was 
talkative at breakfast, whereby Eobert guessed that he 
regretted the way he had spoken the previous night. 
It was an effort for him to respond, for he was still 
anxious, like Mary, who could not even make a pretence 
of eating. Mrs. Hazell, of course, was not yet down- 
stairs. 

‘ What were you asking me yesterday, Mary ? 


44 


HAZELL SONS, 


Something about the Beckers, wasn’t it?* said Mr. 
Hazell, looking up from his letters. 

‘ Yes, papa. I asked you if you could not take back 
James ? They are almost starving.* 

‘ I can’t take back the old man, because I make it a 
rule never to re-engage a discharged man. It is a bad 
precedent, and James Becker had plenty of warnings,* 
said the brewer. ‘ But you can tell the lad, Willie, he 
can come over if he likes, and I’ll see if I can give him 
a job. But it’s only in charity for the wife, and because 
you say she is a decent, hard-working woman, and she 
must draw the wage. Tell the lad that. Will you be 
in the town to-day ? * 

‘ I can go and see Mrs. Becker, papa.* 

*Well, see and talk firmly to them. Don’t be too 
sympathetic, or I’ll need to prohibit you going among 
the work-people. You’d have them demoralized in no 
time, just as they were when your mother was alive. 
I told Eleanor not to go near them, and she never has ; 
but you are more self-willed.* 

‘ You never told me not to go, papa,* Maryvsaid, with 
a smile. 

‘Well, no. You look as if you required to be about 
in the fresh air. You are as fagged as possible. How 
have you lost all your good looks since you came home ?’ 

Mary coloured crimson, dreading what the next 
question would be. She was in terror lest her father 
should discover that Eobert and she had spent the 
night in waiting for Herbert. She hated even the 
appearance of deceit, — it was foreign to her nature, — and 
yet something had to be concealed for the sake of peace. 


NIGHT AND MORNING. 


45 


‘Eleanor is very tired this morning. You will go 
up presently/ was Mr. Hazell’s next remark, which 
greatly relieved her. 

‘ Yes, papa, I shall go up. Do you wish anything 
more ? I have quite finished/ 

‘ Nothing more, thank you. Wait a moment, Eobert, 
and I’ll go down with you.’ 

‘ Papa, I had a letter last night from my friend 
Madeline Eayne, who was at Madame Gebhardt’s with 
me. She is leaving Bonn, and has nowhere in England 
to go to till she gets another situation. May I ask her 
to come here for a little ? ’ 

‘ Nowhere in England to go ! Has she no friends ? ’ 

‘ No ; she is an orphan.’ 

‘ Arid a governess ? ’ 

‘ Yes, papa.’ 

‘ Have you spoken to Eleanor about it ? ’ 

‘ Yes, she is quite pleased.’ 

‘ Oh, well, it is her business, not mine. Let her come,’ 
said Mr. Hazell in his quick fashion. ‘ Is she a nice 
person ? ’ 

‘ The best in the world,’ returned Mary warmly ; and 
her eyes shone with love for her absent friend. 

‘Oh, that is schoolgirl talk/ said Mr. Hazell, with a 
smile. ‘ But it is odd for you to have such a work 
with a governess — you might have found a companion 
more suitable in age and other respects.’ 

So saying, he left the room. Apparently he had 
forgotten the very existence of Herbert. In reality he 
had not. But it suited him not to mention his name 
just then. Eobert, however, was thankful that the 



CHAPTEE V. 

PARADISE ROW. 


FTEE a few minutes Herbert went up-stairs, 
refreshed himself with a good wash, and 
went off to the brewery. He was not a 
coward ; he would face it out at once. It 
was about half-past ten when Eobert, chancing to look 
out of the counting-house window, saw him come 
through the big gates. He put on his hat and went 
gut to meet him. 

‘ Where have you been ? Have you come from 
home ? ' he asked. 

' Yes. I made a jolly fool of myself last night. Bob,* 
Herbert answered confidentially. ‘ I’ll tell you about 
it after. What’s the governor saying ? I suppose he’s 
awfully mad.’ 

‘ He knows nothing about it. He thinks you came 
in late, or, rather, too early to be up in time,’ Eobert 
answered. ‘ This is the worst escapade you have ever 
had, Bert. You must not repeat it, if only for mother’s 
sake. She was quite ill last night and this morning. 
I was down at Gregory’s at two o’clock this morning.’ 

48 



PARADISE ROW, 


49 


‘ Were you ? We were out long before that. I lost 
my watch at baccarat, and my head was muddled. 
Fancy, I wandered as far as Eoyston, seeking the way 
home.’ 

‘ And where did you sleep ? ’ 

‘ Camped out. I awoke this morning in rather a 
damp condition with the dew. Nobody saw me, fortun- 
ately. Perhaps the thing ’ll blow over,’ said Herbert 
brightly. His spirits had risen the moment he heard 
that his father did not know of his indiscretion. Robert 
looked at his brother’s pale face and haggard eyes with 
compassion. It was impossible to be angry with the 
lad ; he was so simple and winning in his way, ready 
to acknowledge himself in the wrong, especially to those 
he loved, and willing to make any promise of amend- 
ment, which, alas ! he had never sufi&cient courage to 
keep. 

‘ I’m glad the governor doesn’t know, Bob, because I 
can’t eat humble pie before him ; it makes something 
come up my back. I suppose I’ll just go in.’ 

‘ I suppose so,’ said Robert, with a half sigh. 

‘ Don’t look so down. Bob. Really, I’m going to turn 
over a new leaf. Only I must go back and win my 
watch from that old swindler. If there was no drink 
going, we’d soon find out their cheating tricks,’ said 
Herbert; and then they entered the counting-house 
together, and he went at once to his desk. Mr. Hazell, 
having occasion to pass through the office a few minutes 
later, saw him apparently busy, and made no remark. 
He never alluded in any way to the affair, and it blew 
over. For a time after such an occurrence Herbert was 

4 


50 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


generally sober and diligent, until some new temptation 
assailed him. 

After an early luncheon that day, Mary Hazell 
walked into the town. There was a little basket 
phaeton at Hazelwood in addition to a carriage for the 
use of the ladies, but, unless Mrs. Hazell accompanied 
her, Mary preferred to walk. The long pedestrian 
excursions she had been wont to take among the Ehine 
mountains had given her both strength and liking for 
that healthful exercise. She was sometimes three or 
four- times in the town in a day. But she had never 
yet been within the brewery gates. 

To reach Paradise Eow, where the Beckers lived, she 
had to go down Sandford Street, and keep close to the 
high wall which enclosed the extensive buildings in 
connection with the brewery. Paradise Eow was 
entirely the property of Mr. Hazell, and the houses 
were all occupied by his workpeople. They were 
brick cottages, containing a room and kitchen, some 
outhouses, and a small piece of garden ground. 
Another line of cottages, running parallel with a lane 
between, was called the Back Eow. They were neither 
pretty nor picturesque. The site was bad, to begin 
with, the houses being built in a hollow, and the soil 
being damp and marshy. It was said that the drainage 
was bad, and if there was any epidemic in Medlington it 
always scourged Paradise Eow and its companion. Mr. 
Hazell, however, had built the houses for his people, 
and he made residence in them a condition of employ- 
ment. In some respects he was a hard master. If 
any grievances were redressed it was generally through 


PARADISE ROW. 


51 


the interference of Mr. Eobert, and the hands were 
looking forward to the time when he would have the 
entire control. They said good times were in store 
for them : he was greatly beloved by all classes in 
Medlington. The gardens in Paradise Eow were not 
kept with taste. A few vegetables were cultivated by 
the majority, but there was a decided scarcity of 
flowers. Miss Hazell, coming from a land where 
flowers are plentiful, had been quick to notice the 
absence of colour and beauty in the workfolk’s gardens, 
but her suggestions as to sowing and planting flowers 
had not been particularly well received. In fact, they 
had been a little shy with her altogether, rather resent- 
ing her visits, though she had such a pleasant, winning 
way with her. Only the children always greeted her 
with unmistakable warmth. She had found her way 
to their hearts, and might be expected through them to 
win the parents. She had made gTeat plans for the 
winter among them, and was thinking of them as she 
walked that pleasant afternoon by the river-side to the 
town. But the thought of her brother would intervene 
sometimes with a saddening influence. Unless she 
could begin her work with success at home, how could 
she look for good results outside ? And as yet all her 
earnest pleading, her loving, sisterly endeavour had been 
in vain. 

It was ten minutes past three by the big brewery 
clock when she turned into Paradise Eow. When she 
made her appearance, there was a general scamper of 
sundry untidy females into the bouses. It was a slack 
time, it must be supposed, with the ladies of Paradise 


52 


HAZELL ^ SONS, 


Eow. They had got dinner comfortably over, husbands 
and children out of the houses, and they could breathe 
in peace. Miss Hazell did not approve of the general 
condition of the houses, and the appearance of the 
women as they sat unwashed and untidy on the door- 
steps. She had even ventured to hint more than once 
that they might find a more profitable employment, but 
her suggestions had not been acted on. In point of 
fact, they had as good as told her to Inind her own 
business. Mary was quite inexperienced in district 
visiting, and had hardly yet learned to shut her eyes to 
a great deal until she had built a sure foundation for 
her feet. 

The Beckers, whom she had specially come to see, 
lived about the middle of the row. James Becker, the 
man who had been dismissed, was leaning up against 
the rain-water barrel smoking his pipe, when he saw 
the general stampede, and then noticed his master’s 
daughter coming round the corner. He immediately 
took himself off in the opposite direction, with rather a 
scowling face. 

These things were not particularly encouraging to 
Miss Hazell, and she felt depressed as she passed up 
the Eow. She made a pretty picture in her neat, well- 
fitting autumn dress ; and as she entered the cottage, 
the faint perfume of her presence seemed to fill it. 

There was a woman in the kitchen sitting on a low 
stool at the fire, with an infant on her lap ; another 
child, about two years old, tired of his play, had fallen 
asleep on the rug, with his head leaning against her 
knee. She was a pleasant-looking woman, between 


PA A VISE EOm 


53 


thirty and forty, but her face was somewhat faded 
and worn. She had borne a large family, and at that 
moment her heart was full of care concerning them and 
their future. The place was scrupulously clean and 
tidy. Susan Becker was an exception to the general 
rule of Paradise Eow ; and, because she kept her own 
honse, and attended to its concerns, rather than meddled 
with the affairs of others, she was not particularly well 
liked by the neighbours. 

She nodded gravely when Miss Hazell’s shadow 
darkened the doorway, and pointed to the two babies as 
an apology for not rising. 

Mary nodded also, gently closed the door, and took 
a chair near the window. She missed the pleasant 
smile with which Susan Becker had been wont to greet 
her ; and, for the first time since she had first visited 
her, felt at a loss for something to say. 

‘ Shall I waken the babies if I speak, Mrs. Becker ? * 
she asked in a whisper. 

‘ Oh no. Charlie got so fretful an’ worrited, I was 
thankful when he fell over. He’s as sound as sound 
can be. When did you come home, Miss Mary ? ’ 

‘ Ten days ago ; but mamma has not been so well, and I 
have been busy,’ Mary answered. ‘ Are you stronger ? ’ 

‘ A little ; but this last baby has taken the strength 
out o’ me. Life’s a hard struggle. Miss Mary,’ said the 
woman, not bitterly, but with a kind of quiet hopeless- 
ness, which was indescribably pathetic. 

* I am sorry to hear you say that. You have always 
been so happy among the children. They are all at 
school, I suppose ? * 


54 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


* All but Willie. He’s gone over to Koyston, because 
he heard that Mr. Carthew, the grocer there, wants an 
errand-boy. He was vexed to leave the school ; but, as 
I said to him, he must put his hand to, so long as his 
father’s out o’ work at least.’ 

‘ I was very sorry to hear about it, and quite 
astonished. I thought your husband had been doing 
so well of late.’ 

‘ So did 1. But one never knows,’ said Susan Becker 
hopelessly. 

‘ I came on an errand to-day, Mrs. Becker. I spoke 
to papa about it, and he says you are to send Willie 
over to the brewery, and he will give him something 
to do.’ 

‘ I won’t do that. Miss Mary,’ the woman answered, 
as she bent her head low over her baby's face. 

‘ Why not ? ’ 

‘ Because one on the bad road is enough. Miss Mary. 
I’d rather the lad begged his bread mostly, rather than 
go the road his father’s gone.’ 

‘ But what has that to do with his getting something 
to do at the brewery, Mrs. Becker ? ’ asked Miss HazeU 
in a puzzled voice. 

Susan Becker lifted her head quickly, and seemed about 
to make a sharp retort, but something in the young lady’s 
sweet large eyes arrested her. She would not hurt that 
earnest soul, who seemed anxious to help her in her 
trouble. So there was a moment’s rather awkward 
silence. 

‘ And if Willie does not get that situation at Eoyston, 
what will you do ? ’ 


PARADISE ROW. 


55 


‘Oh, he must go and seek for work somewhere else. 
Well need to shift soon anyway. We expect notice 
from the master to quit the house every day.’ 

‘ Oh, papa will never send you out of the house, at 
least until your husband gets something to do elsewhere.’ 

‘ Won’t he ? ’ A slight and peculiar smile, which 
Mary did not like, touched the woman’s lips. ‘ He gave 
Job Timms notice to quit twenty-four hours after he was 
dismissed last Whitsuntide ; and there ’ll be a man put 
in Jem’s place, and the master ’ll want him to live in 
the Eow, sure.’ 

Mary sighed, and her colour rose a little. The 
woman’s words were not in themselves offensive, but 
she felt that in some way they cast discredit on her 
father. She could not help resenting them a little, 
knowing nothing about his relations with his work- 
people. At home Mr. Hazell was generally kind and 
indulgent enough, especially to the women of his house- 
hold. ‘ But, you know, your husband has had many 
warnings. Papa told me so, and sometimes for the 
sake of the rest an example must be made of one,’ she 
said a trifle hastily. ‘ I am very sorry for you and the 
children, Mrs. Becker, but I cannot say Jem did not 
deserve to be dismissed.’ 

It was Susan Becker’s turn now to colour up. 

‘ When my Jem went first to Hazel! s. Miss Mary, 
there wasn’t a soberer man in Medlington, nor anywhere 
else. Excuse me bein’ so plain, ma’am, but how the 
master can expect ’em to be for ever sober, and that bar 
open night and day in the place for ’em to drink as 
much ale as they want, I can’t imagine. It’s more 


56 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


than flesh and blood can do to stand straight an’ so 
much temptation. I’ve often, often said to Jem that if 
the master meant it in kindness somebody should tell 
him his mistake. That bar’s been the ruin o’ dozens I 
could name at Hazell’s, though I never thought my 
man ’ud ever be among them.’ 

Mary Hazell had not a word to say. She felt the 
undeniable truth of the woman’s words. 

‘ I’m not meanin’ no disrespect nor impudence, Miss 
Mary, an’ I wouldn’t hurt you, ’cos you’ve alius been 
more than kind,’ Susan Becker said, when she saw the 
downcast look on the young lady’s face. ‘ But I can’t 
bear to hear everybody castin’ the blame on the men 
who drink. They’re poor stupid fellows. Miss Mary, 
but them that puts the temptation always in the way 
are the most to blame, that’s what I think.’ 

Miss Hazell rose to her feet. ‘ Then you won’t send 
Willie over, Mrs. Becker ? ’ she said quietly. 

* Ho, Miss Mary. Say to the master I’m obliged for 
his offer, kindly meant, but I can’t let Willie go, nor he 
has no wish himself. The lad’s set against the drink 
just now, if he keeps to it. He thinks it’s took him 
from the school, an’ I never saw such a boy for his 
books, never. I believe he’d a’ turned out a real 
scholard.’ 

‘ I don’t know what to say, Mrs. Becker,’ said Mary, 
and a tear rose in her eye. ‘ I am very sorry for you 
all ; but what can I do to help you ? ’ 

‘ Nothing, I know, Miss Mary. You have a kind 
heart, an’ I’ll never forget what you did when the baby 
was born,* said Susan Becker, with a gulp. * Will you 


PARADISE ROW, 


57 


tell the master not to send Ford to put us out? We’ll 
go quietly. He has such a nasty way with him. We’ll 
go as soon as we can get. If Willie doesn’t get Mr. 
Carthew’s place we’ll move to Burnley likely, an’ Becker 
an’ the lad ’ll go to the pit.’ 

‘ Oh, Mrs. Becker, that would never do for Willie!’ 
cried Miss Hazell, recalling the bright and intelligent 
face of the boy who had been for years the best scholar 
in the town school, and whom everybody expected to 
rise above the station in which he had been born. 

‘ It’ll need to do, I guess. It’s not what we’d like, 
but what we have to do and to take in this world. Miss 
Mary, as Willie ’ll soon find. Good-bye, Miss Mary. 
God bless you.’ 

Mary Hazell shook hands with the drayman’s wife, 
and turned away from Paradise Eow with a heavy 
heart. 




CHAPTEE VI. 

BEGINNINGS. 


ISS HAZELL turned back the way she had 
come, not caring, in her present frame of 
mind, to encounter any more of the residen- 
ters of Paradise Eow. Put before she had 
got beyond the precincts she met the lad, Willie Becker, 
who was about to pass on with a touch of his cap, when 
she stopped him. 

‘ I have been at your home, Willie, and your mother 
told me on what errand you had gone to Eoyston,' 
she said kindly. * What success had you with Mr. 
Carthew ? 

‘ The place is filled up. Miss Mary,’ the lad answered 
quietly, but his keen disappointment was quite visible in 
his dejected look. He was a tall, fine-looking lad, with 
an exceptionally bright, honest face, and an intelligent, 
speaking eye. Mary Hazell had only seen him a few 
times, but had been drawn towards him in no ordinary 
way. She was a great favourite with all the young 
people in Medlingtoii. 

‘ I am sorry to hear that,* she said sympathetically. 




BEGINNINGS. 


59 

‘ Yonr mother spoke of Burnley. I hope it will not 
come to that, Willie.’ 

The lad turned his head swiftly away, and Mary 
heard him gulp down a sob. 

* Will you walk a little way with me, Willie, and let 
us talk it over,’ she said, laying her daintily-gloved 
hand on his shoulder. ‘ Come, let us go up this cinder 
path. It is quite quiet there.’ 

The cinder path was a little narrow lane, leading 
from the back of Paradise Eow, between two tall, prickly 
hedges, right down to the river. It had got its name 
from the refuse from the engine-houses being spread 
upon it, to keep it dry. The ground just there was 
very marshy. 

The lad turned at once, though with some shyness, 
to accompany the young lady through the lane. 

' I had an errand in coming down to-day,’ she began. 
‘ Mr. Hazell wished you to come and get employment 
at the brewery.’ 

^ I am much obliged to the master. Miss Mary, but 
I’d rather not go to the brewery,’ Willie answered, with 
reddening cheek. 

‘ Why not ? ’ 

It was painful for Mary Hazell to ask such questions, 
and yet she could not help it. 

* You’ll be angry, Miss Mary, but I’m feared I get 
like father,’ Willie answered humbly, and yet with 
firmness. ‘ I’d rather go to Burnley any day.’ 

' But, Willie, it is a frightful thing to work 
down in a coal-mine, away from the light and the 
sunshine. I don’t think it will suit you at all. And 


6o 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


you can keep quite steady if you like. I am sure it 
is in you.’ 

The boy shook his head. 

‘ Father thought that once too, and a lot others that 
have been put away like him. I can’t go to the 
brewery, miss.’ 

' And there are so many advantages, Willie,’ con- 
tinued the young lady earnestly. ‘ There’s the library, 
and the night-school, and the reading-room, all for 
nothing. Think how you could improve yourself, and 
keep up your studies.’ 

Again Willie Becker turned his head away. He had 
already done battle with all these temptations, and had 
trampled them under foot. Young though he was, he 
had seen the evil of the license given to the employees 
at Hazell’s, and had registered a vow that nothing 
should induce him to go there. And yet Mr. Hazell 
provided generous and valuable facilities for the mental 
improvement of his people. The library and reading- 
rooms had cost him over two thousand pounds, and he 
paid the salary of the night-school teacher out of his 
own pocket. 

‘ And what is to become of your scholarship down 
the Burnley coal-mines, Willie ? ’ asked Miss Hazell, 
after a little pause. 

‘ Perhaps there ’ll be a night-school and library there, 
too. Miss Mary. I hope there are.’ 

‘ I think not. The miners as a class do not show 
themselves anxious for self-improvement, and any 
effort in their behalf has met with so little encourage- 
ment that it has been abandoned. Mr. Fergus, of the 


BEGINNINGS, 


6i 


Ladywell miners, told me that cock-fighting and such- 
like sports were their staple amusements. I am afraid 
you will find it a hard life, Willie." 

The lad’s lip quivered. She was not speaking in her 
usual helpful fashion, he thought, and imagined she was 
angry at his refusal to go to the brewery. 

They walked a few steps in silence, and then the 
young lady spoke again. This time her voice was very 
sweet and tender, and had even a slight tremor in it. 

‘ Do you think me very hard, Willie ? * she asked. 

‘ No, but I thought you were vexed with me about 
not going to the brewery," he answered hesitatingly. 

* Not I. If I dared, I should say you were entirely 
in the right. It is always wise to keep as far as 
possible from temptation. We never know how weak 
we are until we are tried. How far is Burnley from 
here, Willie ? " 

* About five miles, Miss Mary." 

‘ And you are very anxious to keep up your studies, 
are you not ? " 

‘ Yes, Miss Mary." 

* What would you like to he ? * 

* I hardly know, but there is nothing in the world I 
should like better to do than go to college." 

‘ To college ! You are ambitious." 

‘ Yes, but mother knows, and she thinks I am quite 
right — at least she used to," added the lad, with a sigh. 
‘ Now, of course, I can’t think about it any more." 

‘ Will you try and keep up your studies, whatever 
you do ? " 

* Oh yes ; I’ll keep all my books, and read them 


62 


HAZELL <y SONS, 


when I can. But Mr. Bertram, the schoolmaster, says 
it is very difficult to get on without a teacher.’ 

‘ I know it is. What do you say to my turning 
teacher, Willie ? ’ 

‘ How, Miss Mary ? ’ 

' Let’s sit down here and make a compact,’ said the 
young lady, motioning him to a pile of wood lying on 
the river bank, which they had now reached. ‘ Would 
you be willing to walk over from Burnley on your half- 
holidays to get some lessons from me ? ’ 

* Oh, Miss Mary ! ’ 

The lad’s face positively glowed with delight. 

* You would like it ? Then we’ll settle it,’ she said, 
with her happy smile. ‘ I am fresh from school myself, 
you know, and ought to be able to make some use of 
my opportunities. I was the Professor’s best Latin 
scholar at Bonn, Willie. I have gone through Horace 
and the two first books of Virgil.’ 

‘ Oh ! ’ 

Willie Becker looked at his master’s daughter with a 
new and reverential interest. 

‘ It is true,’ she said, nodding brightly. ‘Well, 
shall we say Saturday afternoons, at four o’clock, for 
our studies ? ’ 

‘ If you please. Miss Mary. But it will be a great 
deal of trouble to you.’ 

‘ Oh, none in the world ! It will be a pleasure. 
You will just come up to Hazelwood, and we will go 
into the old schoolroom which has never been used for 
years.’ 

‘ Thank you. Miss Mary,’ said the lad simply ; but 


BEGINNINGS, 


63 


his eloquent eyes and beaming face expressed a groat 
deal more gratitude than his few words conveyed. A 
ray of sunshine had fallen across what had appeared to 
him a very dark horizon. They parted there with a 
kindly handshake, and Mary Hazell turned her steps 
into the town again, with a warm glow at her heart. 
She had done some good ; she had, at least, given a 
young heart something to hope for, and her own reward 
was very sweet. It was quite early yet ; half-past 
three on the brewery clock when she reached the gate. 
She hesitated a moment there, and looked into the yard, 
where the casks were piled one upon another in great 
stacks. She had never been within, and a slight 
feeling of curiosity made her feel inclined to enter. 
She felt that she would like to see the place where her 
father and brothers spent so much of their time. She 
passed through the gates, crossed the paved courtyard, 
and entered the office. The clerks looked up in 
surprise at sight of her, and when Herbert saw this he 
jumped down from his seat. 

‘ Hulloa, Molly ! ’ he said, in his off-hand fashion ; 
‘ what’s up ? ’ 

‘Nothing; I was walking through the town, and I 
wanted to see papa. Is he in ? ’ 

‘ Yes, in there,’ Herbert answered, and, pushing open 
the baize-covered door, motioned her to enter. 

‘ Here’s a lady to see you, father,’ he said, addressing 
him for the first time that day. Perhaps he was glad 
of the chance. 

Mr. Hazell looked round quickly. ‘Oh, it’s you, 
Mary I Come in and shut the door. You needn’t wait. 


62 


HA ZELL SONS, 


when I can. But Mr. Bertram, the schoolmaster, says 
it is very difficult to get on without a teacher.’ 

' I know it is. What do you say to my turning 
teacher, Willie ? ’ 

* How, Miss Mary ? ’ 

‘ Let’s sit down here and make a compact,’ said the 
young lady, motioning him to a pile of wood lying on 
the river bank, which they had now reached. ‘ Would 
you be willing to walk over from Burnley on your half- 
holidays to get some lessons from me ? ’ 

‘ Oh, Miss Mary ! ’ 

The lad’s face positively glowed with delight. 

‘ You would like it ? Then we’ll settle it,’ she said, 
with her happy smile. * I am fresh from school myself, 
you know, and ought to be able to make some use of 
my opportunities. I was the Professor’s best Latin 
scholar at Bonn, Willie. I have gone through Horace 
and the two first books of Virgil.’ 

‘ Oh ! ’ 

Willie Becker looked at his master’s daughter with a 
new and reverential interest. 

‘ It is true,’ she said, nodding brightly. * Well, 
shall we say Saturday afternoons, at four o’clock, for 
our studies ? ’ 

‘ If you please. Miss Mary. But it will be a great 
deal of trouble to you.’ 

‘ Oh, none in the world ! It will be a pleasure. 
You will just come up to Hazelwood, and we will go 
into the old schoolroom which has never been used for 
years.’ 

‘ Thank you, Miss Mary,’ said the lad simply ; but 


BEGINNINGS, 


63 


his eloquent eyes and beaming face expressed a groat 
deal more gratitude than his few words conveyed. A 
ray of sunshine had fallen across what had appeared to 
him a very dark horizon. They parted there with a 
kindly handshake, and Mary Hazell turned her steps 
into the town again, with a warm glow at her heart. 
She had done some good ; she had, at least, given a 
young heart something to hope for, and her own reward 
was very sweet. It was quite early yet ; half-past 
three on the brewery clock when she reached the gate. 
She hesitated a moment there, and looked into the yard, 
where the casks were piled one upon another in great 
stacks. She had never been within, and a slight 
feeling of curiosity made her feel inclined to enter. 
She felt that she would like to see the place where her 
father and brothers spent so much of their time. She 
passed through the gates, crossed the paved courtyard, 
and entered the office. The clerks looked up in 
surprise at sight of her, and when Herbert saw this he 
jumped down from his seat. 

‘ Hulloa, Molly ! ’ he said, in his off-hand fashion ; 
' what’s up ? ’ 

' Nothing; I was walking through the town, and I 
wanted to see papa. Is he in ? ’ 

‘ Yes, in there,’ Herbert answered, and, pushing open 
the baize-covered door, motioned her to enter. 

‘ Here’s a lady to see you, father,’ he said, addressing 
him for the first time that day. Perhaps he was glad 
of the chance. 

Mr. Hazell looked round quickly. ‘Oh, it’s you, 
Mary I Come in and shut the door. You needn’t wait. 


64 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


Herbert,’ he added curtly to his son, who immediately 
withdrew. 

' What’s brought you here ? Nothing the matter 
with Eleanor, I hope.’ 

‘Oh no ; I left her much better. I have been to 
the Beckers’, papa, and I thought I would come over 
when I was so near and tell you about it.’ 

‘ Well,’ said Mr. Hazell, continuing the letter in the 
writing of which he had been interrupted, ‘ when will 
the boy come ? ’ 

‘ He’s not coming, papa.’ 

‘ Why not ? ’ 

‘Neither his mother nor himself wishes it. I had 
a talk with them both. He seems to feel a good 
deal about his father, and he will not come to the 
brewery.’ 

‘ Of course they resent the old man’s dismissal ; but 
he was hardly a day sober, and Ford was growing 
rebellious over it.’ 

‘ I don’t think it is that, papa. It is the temptation 
the lad fears. He is very conscientious,, too.’ 

Mr. Hazell’s lip curled. 

‘ Well, and what are they going to do ? ’ 

‘ Go to Burnley to work in the mines, I think.’ 

‘And are they going to send that fine bright lad 
down the mine ? ’ 

‘ There is nothing else for Iiim, I am afraid.’ 

‘ They are fools. Did you point out the advantages 
he would have here ? ’ 

‘I did ; but I could not urge him. I think he is 
quite right.’ 


BEGINNINGS. 65 

Mr. Hazell grunted, and, folding up his letter, care- 
fully sealed it. 

* Papa, is it true what Mrs. Becker told me, that 
there is a bar here, where the men can drink as much 
as they like ? ’ asked Mary timidly. 

‘ Yes, it’s true. Were they throwing the blame on 
that? Just like them, the ungrateful set.’ 

Mary sat silent a moment, and then her father 
wheeled round his chair and looked for a moment into 
her grave, troubled face. 

‘ Look here, Mary, I am going to tell you, once for 
all, that I will not have you meddling with the work- 
people and the business concerns. I’ll have you telling 
me my duty next. Why can’t you stay at home and 
interest yourself in your music and painting, as other 
girls do ? What is the use of all the money I spent on 
your education ? Wasn’t it that you might be able to 
give pleasure to others and be entertaining at home ? 
That's your duty, my girl, and the sooner you learn it 
the better it will be for us all.’ 

The girl’s sensitive colour rose, and her eyes even 
filled with sudden tears. She had been so earnestly 
seeking a sphere of usefulness, that it was hard to meet 
with such strong discouragement on the very threshold 
of her new endeavour. How poorly all the glowing 
visions she had cherished at school were being fulfilled. 

' I am anxious to do a little good, papa, but I will 
not vex or annoy you,’ she said, with a beautiful 
humility that went straight to his heart. He was not 
only proud of his beautiful daughter —he loved her with 
a tender love. But, in spite of that, she must not stand 

5 


66 


HAZELL SONS, 


in his way, or interfere in any degree with his wishes 
or desires. Even in his love Mr. Hazell was a selfish 
man. 

‘ Do good ? Well, if it will please you to give away 
money. I’ll increase your allowance, though 1 say that 
the giving of charity is demoralizing to those that 
receive it. There is no need for any person to require 
charity. There is plenty in the world for all, and 
honest work will always command its market value. 
You should study these things carefully, Mary, and not 
allow your feelings to run away with your common 
sense. What good do you suppose you can do in the 
Kows suppose you visit them every day in the week, 
eh ? Just let me hear.’ 

The brewer’s manner and speech were brusque, 
but Mary knew that he was not angry, and took 
heart again. 

‘ The women are not what they should be, papa. 
They seem to have so little interest in their homes. 
Some of them are so squalid. It must be wearisome, 
of course, and sometimes disheartening, to toil among so 
many little babies. The Trevors have eleven, papa ; just 
think of that ! If I were to have a mother’s meeting 
occasionally in the schoolroom you would not be vexed, 
would you ? ’ 

Mr. Hazell’s mouth relaxed into a smile. 

‘ Not I, but that would be a mistake. What would 
Mrs. Trevor, for instance, do with the eleven while she 
attended your meeting in the schoolroom ? She might 
go home to find that half of them had fallen into the 
fire, and the other half into the Med.’ 


BEGINNINGS. 


67 


* You are laughing at me, papa. I would have the 
meeting in the evening, when the little babies have 
gone to bed, and the fathers are in to look after the 
bigger ones. The women lead such monotonous lives ; 
they can’t get to church, and they have no object in 
life. I think a pleasant hour together, with a cup of 
tea, perhaps, and the reading of a nice story while they 
worked, would be so nice for them. Do let me try it.’ 

‘ You can try it if you like, though I can’t for the 
life of me understand how you can bother your head 
with such things at all. There is a good deal done for 
our people, Mary, in comparison with others, and 1 
must say I don’t think they are a whit more grateful or 
intelligent. Perhaps your philanthropy in Paradise 
Eow will work its own cure ; so we’ll just leave you 
alone. So the Peckers are going to Burnley ? I'hey’ll 
need to go out of the house double quick, or Ford will 
be at their heels.’ 

‘Oh, papa, Mrs. Becker asked that you would not 
send Ford to eject them. Surely he is not a very nice 
man. They dislike him so in the Eows.* 

‘ Hem ! as they dislike everybody who conscientiously 
does his duty,’ said Mr. Hazell grimly. ‘ I only wish I 
had a few more servants like Ford. He is a thoroughly 
capable fellow. Gome in,’ he added, in response to a 
knock at the door. 

A gentleman entered, and Mary rose to go. She 
glanced at him as he closed the door, and was conscious 
of a vague feeling of dislike and distrust of him. He 
was a slight young man, with fair hair, a sallow com- 
plexion, and a pair of unpleasantly penetrating grey eyes. 


68 


HAZELL SONS, 


‘ Ah, Ford, is it you ? My daughter — Mary, this is 
Mr. Ford.’ 

Mary acknowledged the manager’s obsequious bow 
with a distant bow. It was not that she was proud, or 
wished to measure any distance between herself and her 
father’s manager, but she did not like the appearance of 
the man. 

‘ Good-bye, papa. Mamma will be wearying for her 
afternoon tea,’ she said, with a smile. ‘You will not 
be late ? ’ 

Mr. Ford instantly held open the door, and, as the 
young lady passed out, favoured her with a look of 
undisguised admiration, which made the indignaiV 
colour rise to her cheek. 




CHAPTEE Yir. 

PERPLEXITIES. 


Mary reached home she found Mrs. 
,zell in the drawing-room with a visitor, 
ss Meredith from Clieveden. 

She was a little, slender, fair-haired girl, 
with a pretty face and a pleasing, girlish manner. 
There was not much strength of character, perhaps, 
* about Lucy Meredith, hut she was amiable and gentle- 
hearted. She was a special favourite with Mrs. Hazell, 
perhaps because she knew” Eobert cared for her. Eleanor 
Hazell had a great love for her husband’s elder son. 

‘ How are you, Lucy ? What an age it is since I 
saw you ! ’ said Mary, taking the girl’s hand in hers and 
looking affectionately down into her sweet eyes. * I am 
so glad to see you. Mamma, I am afraid I am very 
late. Let me make out the tea, if you don’t mind my 
dusty garments. Guess where I’ve been to-day ?' 

‘ I thought Paradise Eow was your destination when 
you went out, my dear,’ said Mrs. Hazell, with her 
pleasant smile. 

‘ So it was, and I fulfilled my duty there to the best 

69 




70 


BAZELL 6- SONS. 


of my ability ; perhaps it was a very poor best/ said 
Mary soberly. ‘Then I went and invaded papa’s 
sanctum — actually bearded the lion in his den.’ 

‘ You were at the brewery ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; I wanted particularly to see papa at once about 
the Beckers. Do you know them, Lucy ? They live in 
Paradise Eow ; the fourth house, I think, from this end.’ 

‘ I have heard Guy speak of them, I think. The 
man is not very steady, is he ? ^ 

‘ No ; that is just the family. Papa has dismissed 
James Becker/ said Mary, with slightly clouding brow. 
‘ Do you know the lad, Willie ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; he is in Guy’s Bible class.’ 

‘ Indeed ! Has your brother a Bible class in the town, 
Lucy ? ’ 

‘ Yes, he has had it for years. It is a splendid class 
of forty young men and lads.’ 

‘And does he find it do any good? Some more 
sugar, mamma ? How would you do without your 
waiting-woman, eh ? ’ 

‘ Not very well, my darling,’ answered Eleanor, with 
a swift, appreciative smile. ‘ Mary has a great deal to 
learn about Medlington, hasn’t she. Miss Meredith ? 
She is quite a stranger in her own town.’ 

‘ She is, indeed. I came from mamma to-day, Mary, 
with a special message. When can you come up and 
see her ? She thinks you have forgotten her.’ 

‘ Mamma and I have often talked of it. We must 
come before the days grow cold, and before your roses 
are all blown. Eobert tells us little bits now and again, 
Lucy.’ 


PERPLEXITIES, 


71 


Lucy blushed, and her lips parted in a sweet, tender 
smile. 

‘ Well, when will you come ? I seem to have such a 
lot to say and to hear. You never told me anything 
about your school-life, Mary.’ 

‘ Have I not ? It seems almost unreal now ; looking 
back, I seem to have been years at home. 1 am 
expecting my friend Madeline Eayne shortly on a long 
visit.’ 

‘ Are you ? I shall be afraid to meet her. She is so 
very clever, is she not ? ’ 

‘ Yes, I suppose she is. I have never thought of that, 
only I know she is dear and good,’ said Mary, a little 
absently, for her thoughts had flown to the old chateau 
oil the Ehine banks, and memories thronged about her 
heart. ‘ Willie Becker is going to the coal-mines at 
Burnley, Lucy,’ she said, her thoughts reverting, after a 
moment, to the subject which had been engrossing her 
attention all afternoon. 

‘ Oh, that is dreadful for poor Willie ! He is such a 
scholar. Guy is always speaking of him. He joined 
the total abstinence society only a few weeks ago. It 
was his own request.’ 

* Does your brother superintend that also ? ’ asked 
Mary, with a slight constraint in her voice. 

‘ Yes, he does.’ 

Lucy Meredith wished she had not mentioned it ; but 
the words had slipped from her unawares. 

‘ That would be one reason why he refused papa’s 
offer of work. Do you think the total abstinence 
society does any good, Lucy ? ’ 


72 


HAZELL 6r* SONS. 


‘ Guy thinks it does. He has known of several young 
men whom nothing else but a binding pledge would have 
kept sober.’ 

‘ Ah, then, it must do good,’ said Mary, with a sigh, 
and she turned towards the tea-table, and was silent 
while the other two talked. 

Eleanor Hazell saw that the girl’s heart was troubled, 
and she partly understood it. Mary had begun to 
study cause and effect, with the result that she was 
rendered restless, and even unhappy. The con- 
versation drifted after a little into more general 
topics ; but, though ]\Iary was not quite silent, Mrs. 
Hazell saw perfectly well that she was preoccupied. 
Lucy left early, taking with her a promise that the 
ladies should come over to Clieveden on the first 
fine day. 

‘ You are grieved about something, Mary,’ Mrs. Hazell 
said the moment they were left alone. 

‘ Not grieving, exactly, mamma, only feeling a little 
perplexed,’ Mary answered, throwing herself into a 
swinging chair, and beginning to rock herself backwards 
and forwards. ‘ I spoke to papa to-day about the 
mother’s meeting.’ 

‘ Yes, my dear ? ’ said Mrs. Hazell with a touch of 
anxiety in her voice. 

* He says I may have the schoolroom if I like, but I 
can see he thinks I shall not do any good. Do you 
know Timothy Carr’s wife ? * 

* I have heard the name, but I know very little about 
the workpeople, Mary.’ 

‘Well, she has gone dreadfully to drink, I am told, 


PERPLEXITIES, 


73 


and she is actually cruel to her poor dear little children. 
Mamma, these things weigh on my heart.’ 

‘ Don’t let them vex you unduly, my darling ; you 
cannot help the failings of others, and it is the woman’s 
own fault.’ 

‘ Yes, but they are so fearfully tempted, mamma. 
Their houses are so poor and squalid, and the “Base-Ball” 
so near. I wish that place could be shut up ; and yet, 
what right ’ — 

She stopped short, not wishing to grieve Mrs. Hazell 
by casting a reflection on the brewery. But Eleanor 
Hazell knew quite well what was passing in the girl’s 
mind, and was deeply sorry for her. 

‘ You have written to Miss Bayne to-day, dear ? ’ she 
said, changing the subject. 

A gleam of sunshine smiled through the gloom on 
Mary’s face. ‘Yes, and in a few days she will be here. 
She will make everything clear and plain. I hope you 
will love Lena, mamma. I shall be dreadfully disap- 
pointed if you don’t take to each other at once.’ 

‘ I am prepared to be very fond of her, my dear, for 
your sake,’ was the kind answer. ‘ Is that your father 
and the boys already ? But, dear me, it is half-past five ! ’ 

Mary sprang up, gathered her outdoor wraps together, 
and went up to her own room to change her dress for 
dinner. Herbert was very decorous and subdued at table, 
and there was no allusion made to his escapade of the 
previous night. It was Mr. Hazell’s custom to take a 
nap every evening after dinner. When Bobert was not 
at Clieveden, he spent the evening in the drawing-room, 
sometimes alone, or practising duets with his sister. His 


74 


HAZELL ^ SONS. 


tastes were quiet, he enjoyed the society of the ladies ; 
but Herbert found an evening at home an insufferable 
bore. 

‘ Lucy was here to-day, Eobert,’ Mary said, when her 
brothers came up after having smoked a cigar together 
on the terrace. 

‘ Was she ? I am going over to-night.* 

‘ Are you ? She did not say she expected you.* 

‘ No ; but I met Meredith this afternoon, and he 
asked me. Are you going out, Bertie ? Would you 
come with me ? ’ 

‘ Oh no, thanks. I don’t want to go out. Besides, 
I don’t enjoy playing gooseberry,* he answered, with a 
laugh. ‘ I may go down town later. I was to see Atkins.’ 

Shortly afterwards Eobert left the house. Mr. Hazell 
had a corporation meeting to attend, and drove into the 
town before eight o’clock. Herbert wandered restlessly 
about the drawing-room, and at last, with a murmured 
excuse to Mrs. Hazell, left the ladies alone. He could 
not rest at home. No sooner was his anxiety concern- 
ing his latest escapade set at rest, than he was thinking 
longingly of the excitement of Gregory’s rooms. Then 
there was his watch. He must win it back again before 
his father missed it, or there would be a scene over it. 
He took a by-way to the town — a little unfrequented 
path which skirted the face of a wooded slope above 
the river. It was a private road belonging to the 
Hazelwood property, but Mr. Hazell did not insist upon 
his right of way. It was used indiscriminately by those 
who loved a quiet, picturesque walk, and was much 
frequented by lovers. 


PERPLEXITIES. 


75 


Many a time had Mary Hazell, in her madcap, girlish 
days, lain in wait for country swains, and then rehearsed 
what she had seen and heard for the benefit of her 
father and brothers. She had a rare gift for mimicry, 
which, in her earlier years, she had taken full advan- 
tage of, but when she went to Bonn, she had laid it, in 
great part, aside. Mh deline Bayne had pointed out the 
danger of such a gift, and had shown her that its reck- 
less use was Jiot kind. Mary had been falling into 
that foolish and disagreeable habit of turning every 
person and everything into ridicule. Happily she had 
just been checked in time. 

It was quite dark when Herbert left the house, but 
the moon rose before he had gone far on his way. He 
sauntered leisurely along the path, puffing his cigar, and 
occasionally pausing to look through the gaps in the 
trees at the silver thread of the river winding at the 
base of the slope. The landscape, though not very 
picturesque in daylight, looked fair enough under the 
mystic touch of the moon. Even the tall chimneys of 
the brewery were softened into a graceful outline against 
the mild autumn sky. Some leaves had already fallen, 
and they made a gentle rustling under foot. It was 
just the time and the place for quiet meditation. 
Herbert was meditating, certainly, but it was on various 
rather perplexing problems. There were at least two 
entanglements in Medlington which were causing him 
some anxiety. One was a debt he owed to Mr. Miles 
Gregory ; the other a promise he had made to Mr. Miles 
Gregory’s daughter. 

The upland path, as it was familiarly called, ended 


76 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


somewhat abruptly, and made a rapid descent on to the 
public liigliway which skirted the river bank and passed 
the Hazelwood gates. Just at the foot of the path, and 
almost directly facing a foot-bridge over the Med, stood 
a neat, compact little house, half villa, half cottage, 
surrounded by a picturesque and well-stocked garden. 
It had a paddock behind, which was separated by, a 
group of lime trees from a wide stretch of waste moor- 
land called the Common. The house was called Miles- 
wood, the residence of Mr. Miles Gregory. Herbert 
Hazell knew it well both outside and in. Many an 
hour he had spent in the cosy sitting-room, playing 
bezique and backgammon with Mr. Gregory, and making 
love to Mr. Gregory’s handsome daughter. He looked 
quickly round, peihaps to see whether there was any 
one in sight, and then entered the garden by the side 
gate, and knocked with the head of his cane on the 
door. He was immediately admitted and shown into 
the sitting-room. There was a lady there alone, a stout, 
rubicund, motherly-looking person, rather over-dressed, 
but still not unpleasing to look at. 

‘ Law, is it you, Mr. Herbert ? I was just saying to 
Janie this very day surely we ’adn’t seen you for an 
age. Sit down, sit down, and have a drop o’ suthin’, 
an’ I’ll send Patty out after her.’ 

‘ Is she not in, Mrs. Gregory ? * 

* No. She’d been mopin’ in the house all day, an* 
ran out jis’ about fifteen minutes ago for a mouthful o’ 
fresh air. Sit down. You’ll never go without seein’ 
Janie, Mr. Herbert,’ said Mrs. Gregory coquettishly. 
‘ She’d break ’er heart over it. Sit down an’ tell us 


PERPLEXITIES, 


77 


what’s come over you this age. We sees you goin’ up 
an’ we sees you goin’ down, an’ Janie watches behind 
the curtain there as a cat on a watch for a mouse, but 
never a look nor a nod do you give. It’s too bad, Mr. 
Herbert, an’ so friendly as you’ve alius been ’ere.’ 

* We have been a good deal down at Sandgate, you 
know, and since my sister came home there have been 
more people at the house,’ said Herbert in explanation. 
‘ I’ll just go out and meet Janie. I have a pretty good 
guess where she will be.’ 

‘ Oh, very well. If you’ve any little tiff to clear up, 
pr’aps you’d better do it outside,’ said Mrs. Gregory, 
with a laugh. ‘ Off you go, and don’t bide too long, an’ 
I’ll have a bit o’ somethin’ nice for supper against you 
come in. Janie’s in the dumps about something, that I 
know. You’ll not play with my gel, Mr. Herbert ? 
She’s all we have nov/, and we’re very fond o’ her.’ 

There was something touching in the motherly 
solicitude of Mrs. Gregory’s look and tone. 

‘ No, no, honour bright, Mrs. Gregory. I’m awfully 
fond of Janie, but you know I have to be cautious in 
feeling my way. If anything was to come out just 
now, there would be an awful row.’ 

‘ I’m sure I don’t know why,’ said Mrs. Gregory, 
bristling up. ‘ Our gel’s as good a gel as ever lived ; 
an’ for looks, she’ll come nigh your sister, anyway, Mr. 
Herbert, if you’ll excuse me sayin’ it. An’ she wouldn’t 
go to you empty-handed either ; her father ’ll see to 
that. Me an’ Gregory may be common folks, riz from 
nothin’, maybe, but we know what’s what. We’ve 
alius expected Janie to make a good match, an’ we’ve 


78 


IIAZELL dr* SONS. 


edicated her for it. You can’t deny, now that she 
plays the pianny somethin’ splendid ? ’ 

‘ She has a brilliant touch, certainly,’ Herbert an- 
swered, unable to suppress a smile. 

' An’ I’ve never let her sile her hands, which are as 
white as your sister’s is fit to be, Mr. Herbert,’ con- 
tinued Mrs. Gregory, witli an earnestness which had 
something pathetic as well as comical in it. ‘ I’ve 
wanted to speak to you on the quiet for a long time, 
though Janie dared me to do it. She’s a queerish girl, 
our Janie, Mr. Herbert, but as good as gold. You 
should see how she looks out at Miss Hazell when she 
goes past. Your sister looks a haughty young lady, 
Mr. Herbert. Do you think she’ll look very much 
down on Janie ? * 

‘ I’m sure she won’t,* said Herbert emphatically, 
beginning to move towards the door. ‘ She’s a real 
good girl, and would do anything for me.* 

‘Would she, now ? That’s nice of her. Well, Mr. 
Herbert, I wish you’d settle it all soon ; becos it’s 
horrid to keep hidin’ things, an’ folks is begun to know 
you come a lot here, and walk Janie out. If the old 
man should be stingy at first, I’d be willin’ to pay a 
rent for a house — say one of them pretty cottages in 
Amanda Terrace. Nobocly’d be any the wiser — not 
even Gregory ; for I’ve my own little pile in the bank, 
Mr. Herbert, and what would I do with it if not let it 
go to make my little gel happy ? * 

‘ You are too good, Mrs. Gregory, but there ’ll never 
be any need for that,’ said Herbert Hazell quickly. ‘ I 
hope you won’t say anything outside, because if it 


PERPLEXITIES. 


79 


comes to my father’s ears it ’ll get me into a frightful 
scrape. He’s a very proud man, and I must come 
round him by degrees.’ 

‘ Proud, is he ? ’ exclaimed Mrs. Gregory, with a 
mild scorn. ‘ Well, he needn’t be, seein’ his father was 
once a drayman at Hazell’s, when it was Bentley’s. 
Are you off? Don’t take offence, Mr. Herbert — I 
don’t mean no impertinence ; an’ don’t tell Janie, for, 
mercy me ! she’ll be down on me’, you’ve no idea.’ 

‘No, no ! Good-night, in case I don’t look in again,’ 
said Herbert hastily, as he quitted the room. 

The woman made him i'eel ill, but the meshes were 
woven closely round him, and it would be difficult, if 
indeed possible, to free himself from the chain which 
had become intolerable. 




CHAPTER YIII. 


HEMMED IN. 



ERBERT HAZELL went quickly down the 
garden path, through the wicket, which was 
open, and then paused for a moment to scan 
the moorland. The light from the full moon 
was beautifully clear, and he could see right across the 
expanse to the low range of hills which hemmed it in. 
There was not a solitary being to be seen on the common, 
but Herbert knew very well where he could find the 
person he sought. He struck across the corner of the 
moor to where a lonely patch of wood stood out against 
the sky — a little oasis where the cows sheltered from 
the heat in the summer-time, and the sheep from the 
snow in the winter. Many a tryst had Herbert Hazell 
kept with Miss Gregory at the knoll. As he approached 
it, he caught the gleam of something white among the 
trees, and then the movement of a figure which he 
instantly recognised. She saw him coming, but did not 
offer to come and meet him. She was standing against 
the gnarled trunk of an old oak tree, against which her 
white shawl showed in fine relief. She wore a dark 


HEMMED IN 


8i 


dress, and a little tweed cap, which, however, was not 
allowed to interfere with the elaborately curled fringe 
which adorned her brow. She had a pretty but rather 
pert face, a trifle sallow in colour, but relieved by a pair 
of large and brilliant black eyes. Miss Gregory was 
proud of her eyes, which were doubtless her chief charm. 
She was rather under the middle height, and incliru d to 
plumpness. The smallness of her waist looked a little 
out of proportion with her square, well-built shoulders. 
Her face wore an expression of perfect iiidifierence, 
but her eyes softened wonderfully as the young man 
approached. He had won her heart, and she loved him 
with a passionate love, but she was not a meek, gentle, 
pliable maiden by any means. She exacted more 
attention, sometimes, than Herbert Hazell was willing 
to give. 

‘Well, Janie, my love, how are you?’ he said, and 
gently tapped her shoulder as if he had a perfect right 
to do so. 

‘ I am very well, thank you,’ she said coldly, and 
drew herself back a little. 

She meant to punish him for his inattention. More 
tlian a fortnight had elapsed since his last visit to 
Mileswood. 

‘ Hulloa ; are you going to cut me ? ’ he asked, with 
a kind of bantering fondness. ‘ Don’t, J anie. I couldn’t 
help it, and I’m awfully glad to see you. It seems an 
age since I saw your sweet face.’ 

Her mouth relaxed a little into a smile. His way was 
wonderfully winning. It was impossible to resist it. 

‘ Oh yes ; that’s a fine story,’ she said, with affected 
6 


82 


HAZELL SONS, 


unbelief. ‘Why, you’ve passed the door twenty times 
without a look. I believe you’re tired of me, Herbert.’ 

* Tired of you ! Ho, I’m not. I only wish I had you 
all to myself,’ he said rashly. ‘ I was in the house, and 
the old lady took me to task, Janie.’ 

‘Ma’s tongue’s miles too long, said Janie quickly. 

‘ What did she say ? ’ 

‘ Oh, she wanted me to fix the day. You’ll have to 
keep her in order, Janie, till I get things gradually 
smoothed away.’ 

' They take a mighty lot of smoothing,’ she said, with 
a tinge of bitter discontent in her voice. ‘ It’s more 
than a year since we got engaged. I hate this secrecy, 
Herbert. How much longer has it to go on ? ’ 

‘ Well, I don’t know. Things are all at sixes and 
sevens with me. The governor and I can’t get on, and 
it would be no use to ask a rise, for I wouldn’t get it. 

He’d tell me quick enough I don’t work for what I get 

already. He’s an awfully hard old beggar, Janie.’ 

‘ He doesn’t look like it,’ said Miss Gregory doubt- 
fully. ‘ Is it true your brother’s going to be married 
to Miss Meredith ? ’ 

‘ Yes, I believe it is. I think he’s spoken to the 

governor about it ; but Bob’s very close about his own 

affairs. I daresay Mollie knows, and she’d tell me if I 
ask her.’ 

* It’s nearly four months since your sister came home, 
and I’ve never seen her yet. Don’t you remember 
you said you’d tell her all about it, and that she’d call 
when she came home.’ 

‘ Well, you see. I’ve never had a proper chance with 


HEMMED IN. 


S3 

Molly, she’s so much taken up with Mrs. Hazell ; were 
not the chums we were. I’m getting awfully sick of 
Medlington, Janie. Would you go away to a new 
country with me ? ’ 

‘ What would be the use of that ? ’ asked Miss 
Gregory. She did not at all approve of such a proposal. 
She was ambitious and vain, and wanted to marry well 
in her own town, where those who had known her all 
her life would be witnesses to her ascent of the social 
ladder. What would be the use of making a fine 
marriage and then running off to a strange new 
country where nobody knew her ? Such a prospect did 
nob at all commend itself to Miles Gregory’s aspiring 
daughter. 

‘ I heard you were locked out last night/ she said 
presently. 

‘ How did you hear that ? ’ 

' I was talking to Kitty the housemaid this afternoon 
— I was in the garden w'hen she passed on some errands. 
Kitty keeps me posted up in all the doings of Hazel- 
wood.’ 

* I wonder you would stoop to gossip with the servant 
girls, Janie,’ he said angrily. ‘ How do you suppose you 
could ever keep up any position afterwards before 
them ? ’ 

‘ Oh, when I have the position to keep up, I’ll sit on 
all their kind without any scruple,’ said Miss Gregory 
flippantly. ‘ You leave me alone — I know what’s what, 
and can do it too ; but in the meantime I like to know 
what’s going on. It’s not a bad thing to have a friend 
at court.’ 


84 


HAZELL SONS. 


' I suppose you’ve told Kitty we’re engaged, or some- 
thing of that sort,’ he said sarcastically. 

‘ Perhaps I have and perhaps I haven’t,’ said Miss 
Gregory coolly ; but he knew quite well she was too 
prudent for that. ‘I say, Kitty says your sister’s 
awfully nice, but I think she is very proud. I saw 
her go past this afternoon just after Kitty. She walks 
like a duchess. Do you think she and I would get 
on ? ’ 

‘ Oh, I daresay you would,’ said Herbert absently, 
but in his own mind he had his doubts. Mary was 
very fastidious in some things, and Miss Gregory had 
not many fine feelings. She often said and did things 
which jarred on his sensibilities, though he cared for 
her after a fashion. It must be told that it was since 
Mary’s homecoming that he had seen glaring faults in 
Jane Gregory. He had been madly in love with her a 
year ago, and had solemnly promised to make her his 
wife. How he regretted that promise we may see 
hereafter. 

‘ There is a young lady coming from Germany to 
visit your sister, isn’t there ? ’ asked Miss Gregory 
presently. 

‘ I believe there is,’ he admitted. ‘ I think I must 
warn Mrs. Hazell about that girl’s gossip. It’ll make 
them careful what they say before her.’ 

‘ Oh no, you won’t, because you’ll have to tell how 
you knew she gossiped, dear,’ said Miss Gregory. ‘ Don’t 
go falling in love with this fine friend of your sister’s.’ 

‘ Fine friend ! I wish you saw her. She’ll pass for 
my great-grandmother. Would you care, Janie ? I don’t 


HEMMED IN. 85 

believe you would, though I were to fall in love with 
her/ 

‘ Wouldn’t I ? ’ 

An unbidden tear sprang to the girl’s beautiful 
eye, and her mouth trembled. That softening touch 
made her face almost beautiful, and showed that under 
all the flippancy and banter there was a warm, pulsing 
woman’s heart. Herbert Hazell saw the tear and 
the trembling lip, and in a moment had her to his 
heart. He was easily touched, and he could not forget 
that he had loved her passionately once. So the old 
vows were renewed with still greater fervour, and he 
bound about him yet more firmly his chain of bondage. 

‘I don’t see how we’re ever to get married, Janie, 
unless we go off abroad together,’ he said presently. 
‘I’m sure the governor would never give in, and to 
marry without his consent would mean an end put to 
the meagre allowance I have.’ 

‘ Why should he object ? ’ asked Miss Gregory 
jealously. ‘ Pa’s rich, and he makes his money in 
much the same way as Mr. Hazell. I don’t see that 
much difference between making and selling.’ 

‘ I only wish he heard you, that’s all.’ 

‘ It might do him good,’ was Miss Gregory’s smart 
retort. ‘ If you’d tell him more plain truths like that, 
you’d find yourself a trifle better off. You and your 
brother have always Been too soft, just like big babies, 
everybody says.’ 

‘ You are very complimentary; Miss Gregory.’ 

‘No, but I’m candid. I’ve heard pa say that times 
over. You’ll get all your thanks in one day when the 


86 


HAZELL <5- SONS, 


wife gets it all. Come on in. It is chilly here now/ 
said Janie, beginning to move away from the knoll. 

‘ I say, isn’t it a queer thing for your brother to take 
up with the Merediths ? ’ she said presently. ‘ They’re 
such teetotallers. Guy Meredith’s perfectly mad on 
the subject. I’ve heard that your sister preaches 
temperance at the Rows too, and that it doesn’t go very 
well down.* 

‘You hear a great deal of nonsense, Janie/ said 
Herbert, a little crossly. He was tired of her already. 
Ill ordinary conversation she often wearied and disgusted 
him. She could only talk about her neighbours and the 
gossip of the town ; her mind was frivolous and empty. 
At times the desire for better things, the yearning after 
a purer and nobler life, visited the young man, and in 
these moments Jane Gregory could not help ; nay, she 
hindered him, although she was not conscious of it. 
She had blunted some of his finer sensibilities. One 
thing was certain, she didn t present to him a very 
exalted type of womanhood. It was not that she 
lacked education, or even a kind of outward polish 
which might have passed for good manners, but the 
tone of her mind was not high. She did not exact 
that most absolute respect which is every good woman’s 
due, and which never fails her when she is true to her 
womanhood. Jane Gregory had shown herself too 
eager to be flattered and made love to by the brewer’s 
son. I fear I must add that she had done more than 
half the wooing. But she had her good points, which 
were revealed when she had to meet a crisis in her life. 

‘ I’ll never go abroad of my own free will for you or 


HEMMED IN. 87 

anybody else/ she said coolly. ‘ I mean to marry and 
settle here, where everybody knows me/ 

‘ Then it must be the marrying and the settling you 
care about, and not me,’ returned Herbert quickly. ‘ If 
you liked me, you’d go anywhere with me/ 

‘ Maybe ; but it would look like as if you were 
ashamed to live here with me,’ she maintained. ‘ Why 
are you holding out your hand ? Aren’t you coming in 
to supper ? ’ 

‘ Not to-night, I think/ 

‘ Oh, come in ; don’t be vexed with me. I’ve only 
been chaffing,’ she said coaxingly. ‘ Pa’ll be in at nine 
or lialf-past. He’ll be sorry not to see you.’ 

Herbert hesitated a moment. There was not much 
at Hazelwood to tempt him back — only Mrs. Hazell 
and Mary reading quietly by the fire ; besides, he wanted 
a private word with Miles Gregory about his watch. 
Janie saw his hesitation, and opiened the door. Then 
they entered the house together. Mr. Gregory was in 
the sitting-room. It was his custom generally to come 
home to a hot supper about nine, and then go back to 
close up. But on Saturday nights he was obliged to 
content himself with a pie and a drink of ale at the 
tavern. The supper, something smelling savourily of 
onions, was on the table; but Mr. Gregory was busy 
with the local evening paper, which was published three 
afternoons in the week in Medlington. He looked up, 
gave young Hazell a familiar nod, and threw aside the 
paper. 

‘ Been studyin’ the stars, you an’ Janie, eh ?’ he asked 
jocularly. ‘ She’s uncommon smart at all kinds o’ 


88 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


sciences except cookin’ an’ dustin’ up a house. I say 
sometimes to my missus that the darter may be orna- 
mental, but she certainly can’t be called useful. Have 
a seat and a bite along o’ us.’ 

‘Ho, thanks, it isn’t long since I dined,’ answered 
Herbert, but took the offered seat. He did not like the 
man, nor anything pertaining to him, and yet a curious 
attraction brought him night after night into his com- 
pany, either in his own house or at the club-rooms. 

‘Feel rather seedy to-night, eh? You look it,’ said 
Mr. Gregory, as the young man drew near the fire. 

‘ Yes, I’m seedy ; I’m not going near that beastly 
place again,’ he said crossly. * What about my watch, 
Gregory ? ’ 

‘ Ay, what about it ? ’ asked Gregory dryly, as he fell 
to with knife and fork. 

‘ I suppose I’ll need to go and win it back. If I 
hadn’t had drink I’d have left when my money was done.* 

‘ Well, why had you drink ? I didn’t force it down 
your throat,’ said the tavern-keeper offensively, as he 
helped himself to a long draught of strong ale. 

‘ That’s the way of you gents,’ he continued, when 
Hazell made no reply. ‘ You make fools of yourselves, 
and then blame me. Mr. Atkins was at me in the 
same strain to-night. I gave it ’m hot and strong, I 
tell you. I don’t want you to come if you don’t want. 
You’re free-will agents, I reckon, and the “ Base-Ball ” 
can get along without you. Do you want your watch 
back? Has the governor been askin’ after it?’ 

'Ho; but I want it, Gregory. It’s not convenient 
to be without it.’ 


HEMMED IN. 


89 


‘ It’s a pretty toy. I was tliinkin’ on givin’ it to 
Janie to wear as a kind of keepsake,’ said Mr. Greg( ry, 
with a twinkle in his eye. ‘You wouldn’t object to 
that, I s’pose ? ’ 

Herbert made no reply. Gregory was particularly 
disagreeable. The young man almost hated him at that 
moment. 

‘Is it all fair and square between Janie and you?’ 
he asked presently, leaning back in his chair, and wiping 
his mouth with his red handkerchief. ‘ The missus and 
me’s been talkin’ o’ it, an’ we’ve come to the conclusion 
that we’re sick o’ this shilly-shallyin’. When is it to 
be ? That’s what I want to be at ! ’ 

‘ I don’t know. How can I marry when I have not 
as much as keep myself?’ asked Herbert Hazell gloomily. 

‘ There’s plenty in the concern, as I know,’ said Mr. 
Gregory quietly, ‘an’ I don’t see why the owner should 
be so selfish with it. You’ll need to make him stump 
up, my man, or I’ll maybe give him a word 0’ comfort 
myself one o’ these days.’ 

‘You’ll find yourself in the wrong box, I doubt, 
Gregory,’ said Herbert, with a short laugh. ‘I was 
speaking to Janie to-night. If she’d go abroad with me, 
I’d go to-morrow.’ 

‘I daresay; but I won’t let her. Ho man shall 
sneak off with my gel, as if he were ashamed of her. 
She’ll stand a look an’ hold her own any day in Med- 
lington. An’ that’s where it’s to be ! I give you three 
months to make up your mind, Mr. Hazell. You’ve 
dangled after her, an’ keep others away, an’ you're not 
goin’ to shuffle out 0’ it now. I’ll see to that.’ 


90 


HAZELL SONS. 


The young man’s face flushed, but he had not a word 
to say. 

‘ Three months, my boy, and then I goes to the old 
boy an’ tells him the whole story, an’ lets him know 
how much he’s got to stump up. I was lookin’ the 
book this afternoon, an’ it’s a pretty round sum — neaier 
two hundred than one — you owe me. But if you’re 
open and square with my gel, an’ tell your father about 
her, and bring your women-folks to call on mine, an’ 
hev the marriage in St. Nicholas’ afore six months. I’ll 
never say a word. That little sum ’ll be wiped out — 
it’ll be a kind o’ marriage gift, as it were. So there’s 
my terms — an’ very generous an’ kind I’m sure they 
are ; an’ to show I’m in earnest, there’s your watch back 
as a pledge.’ 

Herbert took the watch, which Mr. Gregory produced 
from his watch-pocket, and hastily slipped it into his 
own. At that moment the ladies entered the room, and 
the private conversation was at an end. 




CHAPTER IX. 

MADELINE KAYNK 


ARY HA ZELL was walking impatiently up 
and down the platform at Medlington Rail- 
way station awaiting the London train. A 
boy was holding her ponies in the station 
enclosure, Mary being too excited to sit still in the 
phaeton. She was waiting for Madeline Rayne. It 
was a still, sere October day. The sky was grey, but 
not gloomy, nay, there was even a glimmer of soft 
brightness on the horizon, although the sun had been 
veiled all day. A soft rain had fallen in the night, and 
the roads were muddy, and the country lanes strewn 
thick with autumn leaves. The trees, half- stripped, 
stood out solemn sentinels against the quiet sky, there 
was a hush in the moist, mild air, as if nature were 
resting a brief space before she should be torn with the 
winter conflict. In spite of her gladness, Mary was 
conscious of a curious feeling of depression, almost of 
sadness. Perhaps the state of affairs at home conduced 
to such a state of mind. Mrs. Hazell had caught a 
chill at an evening party, and had been for some days 

91 



92 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


confined entirely to her room. Mr. Hazell was in a 
chronic state of ill-humour. He had decided to be 
hugely displeased about Eobert’s wooing of Lucy Mere- 
dith, and had practically withheld his consent. At 
least he had not paid the slightest attention to Eobert’s 
pointedly expressed expectation that in the event of his 
marriage a fitting income would be provided. The old 
man forgot apparently that his lads had grown to be 
men, and he resented any action taken by them without 
consulting him. Then he did not like the Merediths, 
chiefly because of their active exertions in the temper- 
ance cause in Medlington. These water-drinkers, as he 
contemptuously called them, were not at all to his 
mind, and he often wondered that Gny Meredith got 
any business in the town. But, in spite of his eccen- 
tricities in the way of temperance advocacy and earnest 
gospel work, Guy Meredith’s business did increase. He 
was a Christian lawyer, and was trusted accordingly. 

In consequence of his father’s open displeasure, Eobert 
Hazell was a trifle depressed. There was something 
else, however, weighing more heavily on his mind. He 
could not get rid of the conviction that the business in 
which his father had made his money, and to which he 
had been trained, was not one whose operations could 
be useful or helpful to any. There was a great deal of 
drunkenness in Medlington, and too much tippling 
constantly among the men at the brewery. He had 
screened several, whose misdemeanours, had they been 
known to the old master, would have been rewarded 
with instant dismissal. Mr. Hazell was curiously per- 
emptory in his punishment of drunkenness. On the 


MADELINE RA YNE, 


93 


bench he was known as ‘the hard justice/ and the 
Monday morning delinquents at the Police Court knew 
what to expect when their fate rested with him. He 
fined heavily and gave the longest imprisonments in his 
power to the drunks and disorderlies who were locked 
up from Saturday night. Eobert Hazell had seen the 
practical wrecking of more than one steady and fine 
character among the men, and more than once he had 
remonstrated with his father about the taproom at the 
brewery, urging him to shut it up. P)Ut Mr. Hazell 
had pooh-poohed his objections, and had instanced the 
three large firms who had acted on the same principle. 
Mr. Hazell prided himself upon a certain open-handed, 
generous way with his employees ; he was indeed a 
man of many sides, and full of strange contradictions. 

Herbert was not behaving any better. Mghfc after 
night he was out past the hours, morning after morn- 
ing he was late at the breakfast-table ; and the frown 
was seldom absent from his father’s brow. Altogether, 
these thoughts were rather troubling Mary Hazell. Her 
ambitious hopes of doing good and living a useful and 
noble life seemed to be nipped in the bud. So she 
thought, not knowing that but for her the family life at 
Hazelwood would have been a miserable thing. She 
was sweet and wholesome and earnest-hearted, the only 
sunshine, as Eobert put it, in the house. 

The train was a little late, and the ponies were very 
restive when it came puffing into the station. Mary 
eagerly scanned the carriage windows, aud at length 
caught sight of the face she loved looking out of a third- 
class compartment. She was astonished at first, having 


94 


HAZELL SONS, 


forgotten that Madeline Eayne was a young woman 
of extremely limited means. 

‘ Oh, Lena Eayne ! I never, never was so glad to see 
any one as I am to see you at this moment, my blessed 
girl!’ 

Such was Mary’s greeting, which fell warm and sweet 
on the ears and heart of Madeline Eayne. She was a 
desolate woman, without kith or kin in the world, and 
she loved Mary Hazell with a great love. Her face was 
transfigured by it, as she stood a moment in silence, her 
large, serious eyes suffused with tears. 

‘Just the same,’ she whispered under her breath, 
after that one yearning, lingering look. 

‘ Of course. "What did you expect ? ’ said Mary gaily; 
for a sense of rest and freedom from care stole upon her 
in the presence of her friend. ‘ Come. I know my 
animals will be frightening Jimmy Tompkins out of his 
wits. Have you any luggage ? ’ 

‘ A little,’ said Madeline, with a smile. ‘ I am here 
with everything I have in the world — a waif and a 
stray, Mary, but for you.’ 

‘ I’m glad you had the grace to add that,’ said Mary 
grimly. ‘ Here, Tompkins,’ she added to a porter 
passing at the moment, ‘ send up my friend’s luggage to 
Hazelwood — at once, please, will you ? We can’t take 
it in tlie phaeton.’ 

‘Very well. Miss Hazell; the van’s just ready,* said 
the man, with a touch to his cap. Every one served 
Miss Hazell readily. Her smile was worth a great deal 
to some in Medlington. 

‘ Are you ready now, Lena ? Hothing left in the 


MADELINE RA YNE, 


95 


carnage ? Come, then, and let me look at you. I am 
not quite satisfied about you. What is the meaning of 
all this turn-up ? I thought you were a fixture at 
Madame’s. Ah ! here’s poor little Jimmy, nearly 
shaken to pieces with these tossing heads. Aren’t they 
pretty creatures, Lena ? They are mamma’s and mine ; 
but mamma never drives them.’ 

‘ Yes, they are pretty. So this is Medlington, 
Mary ? ' 

‘ It will be presently. Here, Jimmy, my boy, spend 
it judiciously,’ said Miss Hazell, with a laugh, as she 
gave the boy a silver coin. ‘ Come now, my beauties, 
off you go ! ’ 

Off they went then at a brisk trot, while Mary 
turned once more to look at her friend. 

‘ You look pale, and old, and generally depressed, 
Lena. Tell me about it all, in case we don’t have a 
chance before bed-time at least.’ 

‘ There is not much to tell, Mary,’ said Madeline 
Eayne, and a slow colour rose in her cheek. ‘ Paul 
Gebhardt wanted to marry me, and Madame his mother 
naturally felt aggrieved. She was not kind to me, 
Mary. Was I not blameless where Paul Gebhardt was 
concerned ? ’ 

‘ Did the old creature hint that you encouraged him ? 
Don’t you remember the caricatures you used to make 
of him in his velvet coat and long hair ? So you did 
not aspire to be a poet’s wife, Lena ? ’ 

‘ No, I did not. That is a pretty view, Mary.* 

They were descending the slope from the station, and 
were in full view of the valley where the town stood on 


96 


IIAZRLL 6- SONS. 


the banks of the river, which wound, not ungracefully, 
for many miles. 

‘ Yes ; it is rather pretty. The Med looks well 
from a distance, but it is frightfully unsanitary. It is 
so polluted with chemicals from the works that no 
living thing is found in it. That is the brewery, Lena, 
where the big chimney stalks and the two little ones 
stand in a line.’ 

‘ It is an immense place, surely, like a colony of 
houses ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; it is big enough, certainly,’ said Mary, with 
a sigh. 

‘ And where is Hazelwood ? ’ 

‘ Oh, a long way over the bridge and up the river 
bank, and away from the smoke and the smells. Can 
you see the row of brick houses now, beyond the 
brewery wall ? That is my mission field.’ 

‘ Indeed ! The houses lie very low, do they not ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; far too low. Medlington is not pretty, Lena, 
nor very salubrious, but Hazelwood is lovely, and there 
is a moor not far from us which you and I will explore 
thoroughly. I believe there are some rare flora among 
the little hillocks. We are going to have a splendid 
time, now you have come.’ 

‘ Are we ? ’ 

A slight, sad smile touched for a moment the lips of 
Madeline Eayne. 

‘ Yes, of course we are. The boys are quite excited 
over your coming. Not many young ladies visit us. 
I am afraid I am not a very lovable person, Lena ; I 
have so few girl friends.’ 


MADELINE RA YNE. 


97 


‘ Is your mamma keeping better ? * 

* No. Mamma is not strong, and papa is often 
cross, and Eobert melancholy, and Herbert naughty. 
As for me, I am constantly in hot water about some- 
thing. Do you enjoy the prospect of dwelling indefi- 
nitely in such a charming household ? * 

‘ I shall reserve my opinion, Mary,* was Madeline 
Eayne’s answer. ‘ I am very sorry to hear about your 
brother Herbert.’ 

‘ Oh yes ; it is dreadful. He is never in the house, 
Lena. Night after night he is away at a horrid 
gambling club, and our maid told me one day that he 
visits constantly at the house of the man who keeps it. 
I shall show you the house ; we pass it presently. But 
I don’t believe that. You must take him in hand, 
Lena. Then Eobert, you know, wants to marry Lucy 
Meredith, — a dear girl, — but papa doesn’t like them 
because they are such temperance people. I don’t 
think he is quite just to Eobert, and I see he feels it a 
good deal. Oh dear, oh dear ! I do believe these old 
days at Bonn were the very happiest any girl could 
have. It is such a grieving thing to be grown up, and 
to want to do a great many things one can’t get doing. 
May I tell you, Lena ? As long as the brewery 
flou Ashes, I may stop my mission work. I see that 
very plainly, and it is a great grief to me.’ 

‘ We shall talk all this over by and by, Mary,’ said 
Madeline Eayne soberly. ‘ You are sure Mr. and Mrs. 
Hazell will be glad to see me ? ’ 

‘ Yes. I am an honest person, Lena. I wouldn’t 
bring you here under false pretences. You will be 

7 


98 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


welcomed, I assure you. See, Lena, there is Mileswood, 
just over the bridge, see, — where they say Herbert spends 
his evenings/ 

* I see a girl^s face at the window ; is she the 
attraction ? * 

‘Oh no ! I believe there is a daughter, but of 
course Herbert would never think of her. He doesn’t 
go in for that kind of folly, Lena. There is a good 
deal of private gambling in that house, I believe.’ 

As the phaeton swept past the gate of Mileswood, 
Lena Eayne took a long look at the house, and at the 
face at the window. She felt curiously interested in 
the latter, she could not tell why. 

‘ The young lady is looking very curiously at you, 
Mary.’ 

‘ Oh, I daresay. She is always at the window 
watching me. She irritates me, I don’t know why. 
The poor mother must do all the work, for they keep 
no servant, and that girl is always at the window 
dressed up with a curled fringe.’ 

‘ Mary, you are very bitter,’ said Madeline, with a 
smile of amusement. 

Mary coloured a little. 

‘ I feel that I am saying horrid things. I don’t know 
what makes me do it. I am sadly in need of you to 
put me right, Lena. Well, here are our gates. Isn’t 
it a pretty avenue ? I love those fine old trees. If 
only you had been a fortnight earlier you would have 
seen them in their glory.’ 

‘ Yes, they are fine old trees. You have a beautiful 
home, Mary,’ 


MADELINE RAYNE. 


99 


*Yes; and yet we seem to be a miserable, discon- 
tented kind of family,’ said Mary, and she dashed away 
a sudden tear. 

There was no more said until the phaeton drew 
up at the handsome doorway, then Mary turned to 
her friend, and laid an affectionate hand on her 
shoulder. 

‘ You are welcome to Hazelwood, dear Lena,’ she said ; 
then they alighted, and ran up the steps to the house. 

‘ Has the luggage come, Kitty ?. ’ Miss Hazell asked, 
as the maid came forward to take the wraps. 

‘ Yes, Miss Mary ; it was taken up to the blue room.* 

‘ Ah, that is all right. There is a fire, 1 hope, in 
Miss Eayne’s dressing-room.’ 

* Yes, Miss Mary. Mrs. Hazell gave the order in the 
morning.’ 

‘ Come then, Lena. Is papa home, Kitty ? ’ 

* Yes, Miss Mary, the gentlemen are all home.* 

At that moment the library door opened and Mr. 
Hazell appeared. 

‘ Oh, papa, here is Lena,’ Mary said ; and Mr. Hazell 
came forward with a cordial smile. 

‘ How do you do. Miss Eayne ? I am glad to see 
you. This foolish girl of mine will surely be satisfied 
now,* he said kindly, as he shook hands with the shy, 
insignificant-looking stranger. 

‘ Thank you, Mr. Hazell,’ Madeline Eayne answered, 
feeling as if an ordeal were over. 

* After you have taken Miss Eayne to her room, come 
to the library a moment, Mary, before you dress,* Mr. 

Hazell said. . ^ 

L.ot 


lOO 


HAZELL SONS, 


IVIary nodded, and, taking her friend by the arm, led 
her up- stairs. 

‘Just let us peep in on mamma. I think she will 
be down in the drawing-room to-night for a little, but 
not at dinner. After you have seen her, you’ll surely 
feel at ease. I’m sure there is nothing very terrible 
about papa, is there ? ’ 

IMadeline Eayne smiled. She was certainly feeling^ 
more at ease. Mrs. Hazell’s rooms adjoined the drawing- 
room. In answer to Mary’s light tap her sweet voice 
bade them come in. 

She was dressed in a soft grey shining silk, with a 
profusion of lace at the neck, which somehow gave her 
a singularly frail look. But there was no mistaking 
the kindness and sincerity of her welcome. 

‘ Come here, my dear, and let me kiss you. You 
have come a long way to see us. I hope you will like 
us, and feel at home at Hazelwood.’ 

‘ 1 am sure I shall, thank you.’ Madeline Eayne’s 
eyes were full of tears as she responded to these kind 
words. 

‘You have not many minutes to dress — it is twenty 
minutes past five already,’ M^'s. Hazell said. ‘ Mary, I 
think Lena’s r oms will be comfortable. You will look 
after her, I know. Without Mary, Miss Eayne, this 
house would be in a sad way.’ 

Mary laughed, and danced out of the room. The 
evening had opened pleasantly. She felt in the best of 
spirits. She took her friend to her rooms, and then ran 
down to the library to see what her father wanted with 
her. Mr. Hazell did not dress for home dinner as a 



Yju are not going to sit down to dinner in that frock, are you?’ — Pai)e 131. 



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MADELINE RAYNE, 


lOI 


rule. He wore, however, a black velvet coat, which 
was very becoming. He was pretty vain of his hand- 
some figure and face still. Neither of his sons could 
compare with him. 

‘ Well, your friend must be better than she is bonnie, 
Mary,’ he said, with a slight laugh. ‘ But, if you are 
pleased, we must not say a word. What are you going 
to put on to-night ? ’ 

‘ How do you mean, papa ? ’ asked Mary in some 
bewilderment. It was so unusual in her father to take 
any interest in her attire. 

‘ You are not going to sit down to dinner in that 
frock, are you ? ’ 

' W ell, no, as Lena is here, though I have often worn 
it at dinner here, and you never noticed that I had 
it on.’ 

‘ Oh, well, put on something finer. I asked Ford to 
drop in and dine this evening, and we must not make 
him feel as if we had no respect for his company 
because he is my servant.’ 

‘ Ford 1 ’ 

Mary was mystified for a moment. She had only 
once seen the man, and could not recollect him. 

‘ Oh, Mr. Ford, your manager, papa. Asked him to 
dine ! Why ? ’ 

‘ I can ask him if I like, I suppose,’ said Mr. Hazell, 
a trifle irritably. ‘ He is a fine fellow, invaluable to 
me, and quite a gentleman. I beg you will not turn 
up your nose at him.’ 

' I should never be rude to any guest at my 
father’s table, papa,’ Mary said quickly, and her 


102 


HAZELL SONS. 


colour rose. She could not understand her father’s 
strange irritability. 

‘ Well, well, see that you are kind to him, that’s all. 
We ought to be, because he has no friends here, and it 
is to his credit that he is so steady. I only wish 
Herbert would take example by him,’ 

‘ Very well, papa. May 'I go now ? I have only 
about ten minutes to change my dress.’ 

Yes, you may go.’ 

Mary went up-stairs in a very perplexed state of mind. 



CHAPTER X. 

CHUMS. 


FORD was not very punctual. They had 
all been waiting in the drawing-room for 
about ten minutes, when he was announced. 
He was in full evening dress, very new and 
very shiny, but did not look quite at ease in his attire. 
Robert and Mary received him kindly, Herbert coolly, 
with rather an off-hand nod. He did not approve of 
meeting Mr. Ford in his fatlier’s drawing-room an 
invited guest. 

Mr. Hazell, of course, took down Miss Rayne, Mr. 
Ford the daughter of the house, the two young men 
following behind. Herbert made several grimaces behind 
Mr. Ford’s back. Mary felt, though she could not see 
them, and shook with inward laughter. The effort to 
keep her face straight gave it a severe and even stern 
look rather discouraging to Mr. Ford. Of course he 
could not see her dancing eyes, as she kept her lashes 
down. 

At the table Lena sat between Mr. Hazell and Robert. 
The latter had admired Miss Rayne the moment his eyes 



104 


HAZELL ar* SONS, 


fell upon her. When she spoke her face lighted up and 
changed entirely. Her attire was quiet and plain, but 
it seemed to suit her, and her every movement was full 
of grace. 

Mary tried honestly to he agreeable to Mr. Ford, but 
her consciousness of his undisguised admiration for her- 
self made her most uncomfortable. Her face was 
unnaturally flushed all the time the dinner lasted. 
She certainly looked lovely. Her dress was grey ton, 
a soft shimmering material open at the neck, and reveal- 
ing the fine contour of her full white throat. Mr. Ford 
looked at her a great deal, and addressed all his remarks 
to her. He was very talkative, and not in the least 
abashed. Herbert appeared to be in private con- 
vulsions. Mary saw his lips twitching more than 
once, and her own composure was put to a severe 
strain. Several times Mr. Hazell frowned at his 
younger son, and his polite attentions to his manager 
were very marked. 

Mary, however, was glad when dessert was over, and 
she could rise. 

Lena and she went up to the drawing-room together 
with their arms about each other’s waists, an old school- 
girl fashion which neither had outgrown. 

* It is so lovely to have you here,’ said Mary, with 
unmistakable satisfaction. ‘ They all like you. Isn’t 
Robert good and nice, and poor Bertie, too, if only he 
were a better boy.’ 

‘ I like both your brothers, Mary ; but who is Mr. 
Ford?’ 

Mary’s face flushed. 


CHUMS, 


105 

* The manager at the brewery, Lena. He has never 
been here before. An insufferable man ! I wonder why 
papa asked him.’ 

Mrs. Hazell had not yet entered the drawing-room. 
The lamps were not lighted, but a splendid fire made a 
cheerful ruddy glow all over the pretty room. The girls 
drew near it, and sat down together on the lounge, which 
had been placed in readiness for Mrs. Hazell. Just at 
that moment there was a quick step on the stair, and 
Herbert came into the room. 

‘ Interrupting the confidential, eh?’ he said pleasantly. 
‘ Can’t help it, Molly. If I’d stayed a moment longer 
I’d have done something dreadful. To see that little 
ape sipping champagne and holding forth is more than 
I’m able for. It doesn’t do to introduce one’s work- 
people into one’s house in spite of the levelling doctrine 
of the Socialists, eh. Miss Rayne ? ’ 

* Mr. Ford seems to be very well informed,’ Lena said, 
looking up at the handsome, boyish face with a smile. 
There was something very winning in that sudden smile, 
it seemed to transform her whole face. 

‘ Mr. Ford is a well-informed but very cheeky fellow 
was the disrespectful rejoinder. ‘ I beg your pardon. 
Miss Rayne, but you know we know you so jolly well 
we can’t stand on p’s and q’s, and I don’t believe you’d 
like it — there ! ’ 

‘ Ho, she wouldn’t,’ laughed Mary. ‘ Well, I suppose 
I may leave you two without fear that you will fall 
out until I see whether mamma has had her dinner.’ 

So saying, she left the room, and the two were 
alone. 


io6 


HAZELL SONS, 


‘ You must be frightfully tired, Miss Eayne. How 
far have you travelled to-day ? ’ 

‘ Only from Harwich. The boat got in this morning. 
We had a stormy passage ; it blew a gale in the night ; 
but I am not very tired.’ 

‘ I hope you’ll stay a jolly long time then, though we 
aren’t a very lively household. Molly, of course, is an angel, 
but the rest of us don’t amount to much, especially me.’ 

* What is especially disagreeable about you ? ’ 

* I’m a weed, if you know the meaning of that light 
and elegant phrase. I am of no use to anybody under 
the sun.’ 

* And whose blame is that ? * 

‘ Oh, mine, of course. I say. Miss Eayne, aren’t you 
awfully good and religious ? When you have been here 
about a week you won’t speak to me. I quite expect 
it.’ 

* Tell me why.* 

* Oh, I don’t behave myself. I stay out nights, and 
play billiards and baccarat. I know it’s wicked, and 
that I’m a fool. The money I’ve lost at that Gregory’s, 
Miss Eayne, makes me pale with unavailing regret, as 
the song says. I only wish I had the third of it now.’ 

Madeline Eayne leaned back in her chair, and lightly 
folded her hands in her lap. They were beautiful hands, 
soft, white, and gentle, and they had the touch of a 
ministering angel. There was no smile on her face 
when she looked at Herbert Hazell. 

‘ I gather from the way you speak that you are rather 
proud of your reputation as a weed. Shall we change 
the subject ? ’ 


CHI MS. 


107 


Herbert Hazell felt lier sarcasm, and yet it attracted 
him. No young lady liad ever spoken to him in that 
way. He was accustomed to be flattered and made-of 
by the few he knew. 

* By Jove, you can hit a fellow hard, Miss Bayne!’ he 
said, with a slight flush. ‘ Did 1 appear to brag ? I 
didn’t mean to. Look here, do you know I’m sick of 
everything!’ 

He threw himself into a chair, but immediately leaned 
forward and fixed his eyes full on the grave, serious face 
of the woman before him. He did not know how it was, 
but he felt a curious nearness to her, a dependence upon 
her, which made him marvel. If any woman could helj) 
him in the better way it would be Madeline Bayne. 
Mary was anxious and willing, but too pliable ; the least 
sign of penitence caused her sternness to melt away in 
a moment. But Madeline Bayne was made of different 
stuff. 

‘ Tell me what you mean ? ’ she said quietly. She 
felt intensely interested in this young man, and did not 
even feel astonished at the readiness with which he 
confided in her. 

‘ Well, to begin with, I’m going to tell you everything, 
Miss Bayne, though, of course, Molly has told you a lot. 
Girls always do tell each other everything, don’t they ? 
I’m miserable at the brewery. The governor and I 
don’t agree, and I hate the work. I’m just a common 
clerk, and Bob is not much better, though he doesn’t 
sit on a stool. I’ll tell you what it is. Miss Bayne, it’s 
Ford that’s the boss of the concern, and his presence 
here to-night is evidence of the fact.’ 


io8 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


Madeline Eayne was silent. She had certainly not 
been favourably impressed with Michael Ford, but she 
did not care to say so. 

* If a fellow felt himself getting on, or had any interest 
in his business,* continued Herbert, still bitterly, * he 
wouldn’t care to go out seeking enjoyment at nights. 
But it makes a fellow forget. I really don’t know what 
the governor’s thinking of. It’s my opinion,’ he added, 
lowering his voice, ‘ that Ford’s got him under his 
thumb.’ 

Madeline Eayne sat up, and lifted her hand with a 
slightly deprecating gesture. 

‘ You are forgetting, I think, how utter a stranger I am 
to you. Perhaps it is not right that I should hear all this.’ 

‘ Oh, bother ! it’s quite right. You’re Molly’s chum, 
and I know jolly well you know when to hold your 
tongue. Besides, do you think all MedHngton doesn’t 
know how the land lies ? Just you watch Bob, how 
worried he looks. There’ll be a regular rumpus soon, 
you’ll see. Bob doesn’t rouse easily, but he’s just about 
as sick of Ford as I am.’ 

‘But, to go back to where we were,’ said Lena 
gently. ‘Allowing that you have a good deal to try 
you, is it a manly thing to allow these worries to 
master you ? Don’t you think you could keep your 
self-respect through them all ? Were I you, I would 
find a joy in surmounting all these difficulties nobly. 
Duty, well done, always brings its reward.’ 

‘ I know you are right,’ said Herbert, humbly as a 
rebuked schoolboy. ‘Sometimes I do try jolly hard 
to improve, but things are too many for me.’ 


CHUMS. 


109 


* Don’t say so. A temptation once overcome can 
never have the same influences again/ said Lena, 
with earnest, shining eyes. ‘ Have you never proved 
that ? ’ * 

‘ Oh, well, I don’t know. You see I’m not good at 
withstanding temptations. But I’d like to try. I’d 
like to keep a straight course, just to watch that Ford, 
and get the better of him. I know he’s plotting 
mischief, and he has too much influence with the 
governor. He’ll do for Ford in a moment what he 
won’t listen to from Bob or me. It is not fair to a 
man’s sons, is it, now ? ’ 

‘ But, leaving Mr. Ford out of the question entirely, 
won’t you keep the straight course for your own sake, 
and for the sake of those who love you ? I should like 
you to be a man for your own sake.’ 

‘ Would you care ? ’ 

A curious, even half-wistful look was in the lad’s 
eyes as he asked the question. The colour rose slightly 
in the cheek of Madeline Bayne. 

‘Yes, of course I should care. If I am Mary’s 
“ chum,” I suppose I may be yours too ? ’ 

‘All right; we’re chums. Shake hands upon it. 
I’m jolly glad you’ve come,’ said Herbert, quite joyously. 
Then they shook hands, and Mary, entering at the 
moment, caught them in the act. 

‘We’ve been falling out, and agreeing again/ said 
Herbert, with a laugh, but Mary guessed that some- 
thing serious underlay his banter. 

Madeline rose to make way for Mrs. Hazell, who 
had followed Mary into the room. The servant entered 


I lO 


HAZELL (Sr* SONS, 


to light the lam-;s ; the steps of the gentlemen on the 
stairs announced that their talk over the fruits and sweet- 
meats was over. 

‘Now, you young ladies must entertain us with 
music and song,’ said Mr. Hrzell jocularly, as he threw 
himself into a chair. His voice was a little thick, his 
eyes rather hazy — evidently he had imbibed too freely 
at the table. 

Mary, perhaps to escape from the persistent gaze of 
Mr. Ford, went at once to the piano, and began to sing. 
She had a clear, well-trained voice, and sang witliout 
affectation or effort. Mr. Ford stood by the side of the 
piano looking down at her, but Mary appeared to be 
entirely engrossed by her music. In reality she was 
highly indignant. 

‘ May I thank you for a rare treat. Miss Hazell ? ’ he 
said impressively when her song ended. 

‘Oh, it is no treat,’ she answered flippantly, and 
turned quickly aside. ‘ Mr. Ford, we must Jiave a 
song from you. I hear you are quite a star.’ 

‘ I sing a little for my own amusement,’ said Mr. 
Ford modestly. ‘If I find something here, will you 
honour me by playing my accompaniment ? ’ 

‘ Oh, I am not a good musician. Miss Eayne will 
help you. Won’t you, Lena ? ’ 

‘ Certainly.’ 

Madeline Eayne, understanding the appeal, came at 
once to the rescue. Mr: Ford endeavoured to hide his 
chagrin, and sang ‘ The Anchor’s Weighed ’ with con- 
siderable effect. Then Madeline, remaining at the 
piano, began to play with her own exquisite touch some 


CHUMS. 


Ill 


of the ‘ Songs without Words/ the very spirit of which 
she had caught on the banks of the enchanted Ehine. 
Mary sat close by Mrs. Hazell’s couch, both ladies 
enjoying the beautiful melody. Mr. Hazell fell asleep. 
Mr. Ford fidgeted a little in his seat, not appreciating 
the music, but finding his efforts at conversation not 
encouraged. Herbert seemed entranced, and sat with 
his eyes fixed on the player’s face. She had forgotten 
them all ; her face wore a dreamy, far-off expression, 
and her eyes seemed over-running with tears. Eobert 
walked slowly to and fro the drawing-room, with his 
eyes fixed on the floor. He was restless and ill at 
ease, being, indeed, careful and troubled about many 
things. 

‘ I am afraid I have forgotten myself,* Lena said, 
presently jumping up. ‘It is so long since my fingers 
touched such keys as these. Do you remember our 
dilapidated pianos at Bonn, Mary ? * 

‘ Don’t I ! Well, what are we to do now ? Papa is 
sound asleep. Shall we have a hand at draughts? You 
are not going out, Eobert ? * 

‘ Yes, dear, I promised to be at Clieveden to-night. 
Mr. Ford will excuse me, as I did not know he was to 
be here to-night. Miss Eayne, I suppose, is one of the 
family, and needs no apology.* He smiled as he turned 
to Madeline, who looked pleased at his words. 

‘ It is kind of you to say so. I am indeed at home,* 
she said, and, passing to Mrs. Hazell’s couch, sat down 
there with a look of quiet content. They had indeed 
all given her the truest of welcomes to Hazelwood. 
Eobert left almost immediately, and without awaking 
8 


( I 2 


HAZELL SONS. 


his father, then the couples sat down to their game. 
Herbert did not care particularly for the game, but with 
Madeline Eayne opposite him it was a very different 
matter. There was somebody waiting at the Grove for 
him at that moment, but for the first time in their 
acquaintance Jane Gregory waited in vain. 

‘ Well, what do you think of us all, Lena ? ’ asked 
Mary, when the two girls were together in Lena’s 
dressing-room that night. 

‘ What can I say but that I like you all very much,’ 
said Madeline, with a laugh. ‘ You ask very direct 
questions, Mary.’ 

‘ Oh, so do you, my girl,’ said Mary quickly. * If I 
have the habit of calling a spade a spade, I have learned 
it from you. How, I want to know what you and Bert 
were talking about just after dinner. Do you know this 
is the first evening he has spent at home for weeks. 
And he was perfectly amazed when eleven o’clock 
struck. If you work a reformation in that boy, Lena 
Rayne, you shall be my patron saint for evermore.’ 

‘ He is only easily led, Mary ; there is no evil in him. 
And he loves music. I can never think that one with 
a soul for music can sink very low. Of the two I am 
not sure that I don’t like Herbert best.’ 

The time came, and that very soon, when Madeline 
Rayne could not deliver such a candid opinion on the 
brothers. 

‘ Oh, so do I. Bertie is so funny and winning. 
Robert, of course, is good and steady, and just the man 
to help in any trouble. But he is a little distant — even 
Lucy, who is to be his wife, says that. Lena, I am 


‘ Well, what do you think of us all, Lena ? ’ asked Mary . — Pajc llll. 















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CHUMS. 


113 

afraid I shall have some trouble with that Tord, as 
Bert calls him/ 

‘ I am afraid of it. He certainly admires you very 
much/ 

‘ Horrid little man ! He is so self-satisfied and 
complacent. I should like to behave dreadfully to him 
if I dared. Lena, it is not nice to be grown up. Do 
you think it is ? * 

‘Yes, I do. I am very happy to-night, Mary ; 
happier than ever I thought I should be again.* 

‘ Then you love us ? You shall never leave us 
again, my Lena. You have a work here to do.* 

It was a word spoken in jest, but it became earnest 
in days to come. 




CHAPTER XL 

IN THE LIBRARY. 


R. HAZELL was sitting in the library dozing 
over his evening paper. . The sound of the 
music from the drawing-room, perhaps, had 
a soothing effect on him, and yet his face 
was very flushed, and his breathing heavier than it need 
have been. Dinner was not long over, the ladies were 
up-stairs. The touch on the piano was Madeline’s touch ; 
even Mary could not play the German ‘ Lieder ’ so 
exquisitely. Three weeks had passed since Madeline 
Rayne had come to Hazelwood, weeks fraught with 
grave issues. She had found a place in Hazelwood, 
and had ceased to talk of leaving. Was she happy ? 
Ah, we shall see. 

Shortly after the music ceased, the library door 
opened to admit Robert Hazell. He had his ulster on, 
and his hat and stick in his hand. These he laid on the 
table, after he had closed the door. His face was grave, 
and there was a determined curve about his mouth. He 
had come to talk over a serious matter with his father. 

‘ Ah, well, is it you, Robert ? ’ said Mr. Hazell, 

114 



IN THE LIBRARY, 


115 

rousing himself with an evident eflbrt. ‘ Going out, 
are you, eh ? ’ 

‘Yes, I am going over to Clieveden, father,* Ptobert 
answered quietly. ‘ I wanted to have a little talk 
with you to-night before I go, if you can spare the 
time.’ 

‘ Eh, well, what about ? Not business, I hope ? 
Business in business limits — that’s my motto. What 
is it ? ’ 

‘ It is about the matter I talked to you some time 
ago, father — my settlement in life.’ 

‘ Your marriage with the JMcicdith girl ? ’ said Mr. 
Hazell, with a frown ; * I thought you had given over 
that folly.’ 

‘I told you, I think, that Miss Meredith had pro- 
mised to become my wife,’ said Kobert, slightly em- 
phasizing the name. ‘ I also asked you to consider the 
question of a suitable income. I am anxious to marry 
in spring.’ 

‘ Oh, you are, are you ? ’ Mr. Hazell was now 
thoroughly aroused. ‘ And what would you consider a 
suitable income, eh ? ’ 

‘ Four or five hiindred a year would satisfy me in 
the meantime,’ said Pobert quietly. ‘ The Priory 
House is to let at present, and I believe it can be got 
for fifty pounds. But I wanted to come to a clear 
understanding with you before I made any inquiry 
after it.’ 

‘ Oh, indeed ! ’ 

Mr. Hazell calmly folded out the other side of his 
paper, and began to read. Eobert bit his lijx His 


ii6 


HAZELL ^ SONS, 


father tried him not a little. He knew that he was 
making a very reasonable request, and he felt hurt at 
his reception — hurt, but not greatly surprised. 

* You will remember that you promised to think 
over it ? It is two months since I spoke of it to you 
before. I can’t wait any longer, father.’ 

‘Four or five hundred a year — rather sweet,’ repeated 
Mr. Hazell. ‘ The firm can hardly support two ex- 
pensive establishments.’ 

‘ I am sorry to contradict you, father, but I think 
differently,’ said Eobert respectfully but firmly. ‘And 
mine will not be an expensive establishment. My 
tastes are quiet, and my wife’s will be similar. I must 
press for satisfaction on the point of income, because 1 
think it is my right.’ 

‘ So you think your valuable services demand hand- 
some recognition,’ said Mr. Hazell, with a slight sneer. 
‘ The rising generation have very exalted ideas. Do 
you know that Ford is worth two of you, and that he 
thinks himself very well paid at two hundred and 
fifty ? ’ 

Eobert’s colour rose. He was angry, but he strove 
to hide it. His father was in one of his frequent 
irritable moods, and he had no wish to make an open 
rupture. 

‘ You cannot regard a servant and a son in quite the 
same light, father ; so we will leave Ford out of the 
question. If I am of no use at the brewery, perhaps 1 
had better leave.’ 

‘ That would teach you humility, sir. A few 
hard knocks out in the world would make you 


IN THE LIBRARY. 


117 

appreciate the advantages you have had,* said Mr. 
Hazell grimly. 

‘These advantages may be questioned, sir,* said 
Eobert. ‘ You gave us a fair education, and then put 
us where we are without consulting us. We have had 
no opportunity to better our condition. I am bound to 
say that had I been with any other firm I should not 
be serving for a hundred pounds a year at nine-and- 
twenty.’ 

Mr. HazelTs eyes flashed. Perhaps the truth of his 
son’s words went home. 

‘ Well, upon my word, you are confoundedly im- 
pudent. That’s what a man gets from his family after 
he has toiled to give them ease and independence.* 

‘ I don’t wish to be impudent. I am only speaking 
the truth, an 1 you know it, father,* said Eobert a trifle 
sadly. ‘ Am I to have no satisfaction then ? In justice 
to my future wif'^ and myself, I must ask you for a 
plain answer, sir.’ 

‘ I don’t approve of the girl at all. Do you know, it 
is an insult to me for you to take up with these people, 
who are constantly crying down my trade. Would the 
food Mrs. Eobert Hazell might eat not choke her, I 
wonder, seeing it would be paid for with the price of 
ale ? Ask her that, with my compliments. Ask her, 
too, if she thinks it consistent to jump at an offer of 
marriage from a brewer’s son. Ugh ! these teetotallers 
make me sick.* 

Eobert took up his hat and stick. He saw no 
prospect of being able to obtain any satisfaction from 
his father. 


IIAZELL ^ SONS, 


1 18 

‘ Are you going off, then ? Well, I’m not going to 
be forced into giving away the half of my substance, 
like the prodigal’s father. I’ll think over it, but I’ll 
never consent to you renting a mansion like the Priory, 
You must begin small. If Miss Lucy Meredith wants 
you, and not your means, she’ll be glad enough to wait 
a while, and mount the ladder with you. It doesn’t do 
to give young people too much liberty.’ 

Eobert Hazell hastily left the room. It must be 
told that he shut the door with no gentle hand. He 
was very angry, but there is a righteous anger which is 
perfectly justifiable. He knew that he was very badly 
and unjustly treated. The profits accruing from the 
brewery could be counted by thousands, although it 
suited Mr. Hazell at times to plead poverty. Eobert 
at once left the house. He had three good miles to 
walk to Clieveden, but he was glad of it. The fine 
night air would cool his hot head, and his thoughts 
would have taken shape again by the time he saw Lucy. 

Mr. Hazell folded up his paper, and, rising, opened a 
locked door below the , book-shelves, where he kept a 
little store. Perhaps he required a good stiff glass of 
spirits to restore liis uerves after his interview with his 
son. Mrs. Hazell did not know what was kept in the 
library cabinets, the keys of which Mr. Hazell carried 
constantly with him. She was neither curious nor 
suspicious, or she must sometimes have had her doubts. 

The brewer had composed himself at the fireside 
again, when he heard the hall door bell ring, and 
presently Mr. Ford was shown in. Since the night of 
the dinner Michael Ford had dropped in several times 


JN THE LIBRARY. 


119 

fainilifirly at Hazelwood, greatly to the disgust of the 
young iiien. As for Mary, her iiidignat-ion knew no 
bounds, and she scarcely spoke to him. 

But the master of Hazelwood himself was invariably 
most affable and attentive to his manager, who could 
thus afford to ignore the coldness of the other inmates 
of the house, 

‘ Hulloa, Ford ! good evening. Glad to see you ; the 
very man I’ve been thinking of. Draw in your chair. 
Coldish night, surely ? ’ 

‘ Yes, there is a touch of frost ; winter is upon us, 
sir,* said Michael Ford, as he rubbed his hands before 
the cheerful fire. 

‘ Frost, eh ? early, is it not ? But no ; tliis is tlie 8th 
of November, I do declare. Have anything ? * 

‘Not just now, thank you, sir,’ returned Mr. Ford. 
He hoped to be asked to join the circle in the drawing- 
room, and he had noticed that IMiss Hazell never by 
any chance touched stimulants. ]\Ir. Ford liked a sip of 
brandy or wine as well as any man, but he wished to 
commend himself to Mary Hazell. 

* All well to-night, I hope, sir. The ladies well ? ' 

‘ Oh yes, all well. Mrs. Hazell is really greatly 
improved. She is enjoying Miss Ihiyne’s visit. She 
is a fine girl that, Ford.* 

‘ Yes, Miss Bayne is certainly very clever,* said Mr. 
Ford, with a touch of uneasiness. He was mortally afraid 
of Madeline Bayne, and never felt at ease under the gaze 
of these clear, calm, womanly eyes. He felt as if she 
could read his inmost being, and knew every weakness 
and failing of his mean little soul. 


120 


HAZELL <5r* SONS, 


‘A fine girl, and good-looking too,* pursued Mr. 
Hazell volubly, being influenced by his latest taste of 
spirits. * I’ll tell you what, Ford, she’d make you a 
splendid wife. With her you’d take quite a position in 
Medlington. She’s a thorough lady, and would make 
people respect her whether they will or no. She’s the 
very wife for an ambitious young fellow like you.* 

Mr. Ford grew rather pale, and gave a nervous 
laugh. 

‘ You are very kind, sir, and I’m much obliged, but 
I couldn’t fancy her.* 

‘ It would be a fine thing for her too. She’s friend- 
less and penniless, but she’s such a fine sensible girl 
that I wouldn’t mind giving her a dowry myself for 
Mary’s sake, so you can think over it, Ford.’ 

‘ I — I don’t think I will, sir,* said Ford humbly but 
firmly. ‘If I ever marry, it’ll be some lady very 
different from Miss Rayne. Perhaps I’m very ambitious, 
sir, but you’ve often told me you admire an ambition 
in a young man.’ 

‘ So I do. I’d never have been where I am to-day 
if I hadn’t been ambitious,’ said Mr. Hazell in the self- 
satisfied, contented tones of a man who has been made 
happy by some influence. ‘Talking of marrying and 
ambition. Ford, I’m afraid I’m going to have some 
trouble with Robert. He’s been at it again to-night.’ 

‘ I met Mr. Robert on the avenue, and he looked at 
me as if he could have slain me, though I’m sure I’m 
his humble friend,’ said Mr. Ford virtuously. 

‘ They’ve an awful pride, these lads of mine. Ford, 
and it must be reduced. What do you suppose was 


IN THE LIBRARY. 


12T 


his modest request to-night ? He wants five hundred 
a year for his portion, and he’s going to take the Priory 
for Miss Meredith.’ 

* It seems a great deal, sir, but perhaps Mr. Eobert 
is right,’ said Mr. Ford cautiously. ‘ You wouldn’t 
think of a partnership ? ’ 

‘ Ho, I would not.* 

‘Well, perhaps you’re right. The last firm I was 
with at Leeds, sir, when the concern was given up to 
the sons, they just broke the old gentleman’s heart, and 
grudged him less than they gave their manager. Many 
a time my heart was sore for him, but, of course, being 
a servant, I daren’t say a word. It was for thinking it 
injustice to him, sir, that I got my leave,’ said Ford 
modestly, but with a quiet triumph, as if he rejoiced in 
suffering in a good cause. ‘ But even a servant is a 
man, sir, with a man’s feelings, an’ I couldn’t bear to 
see you put upon, even by Mr. Eobert, that Medlington 
makes such a paragon of.’ 

‘You’re a good creature. Ford, and I won’t forget 
you,’ said Mr. Hazell reassuringly. ‘ But what do you 
think we should do about him ? ’ 

‘ It’s not for me to say, Mr. Eobert being my 
master.’ 

‘ He’s not your master ; I am. Ford, and if I choose 
to ask your opinion it’s no business of his. You’ve 
been a faithful servant for five years, and have the 
interests of the firm at heart. Tell me plainly what 
you think .would be a fair thing for Eobert.’ 

‘ Well, sir, it would take five hundred twice told to 
keep up the Priory,’ said Mr. Ford cautiously. The 


122 


HAZELL ^ SONS. 


Priory rankled in his mind. He had had visions of it in 
his own castle-building, and had pictured himself dwell- 
ing there with Mary Hazell as his wife. ‘ The profits 
have been a little less of late, and, if you’ll excuse me 
speaking so plain, I think a little less might satisfy Mr. 
Eobert in the meantime. There are nice houses in 
Amanda Terrace past the quay, sir, the rents of which 
are only thirty pounds — very genteel houses with nice 
gardens. I’m sure Miss Meredith would like them 
very well, and in these houses, sir, a young couple 
could live in luxury on three hundred a year.’ 

‘ I should say so. I hadn’t three hundred a year 
when I married Eobert’s mother, and we lived in your 
house at the brewery, and had to keep a very plain 
table. My father kept a very tight hand on the 
purse-strings. I never was indulged as these lads have 
been, and it’s been the ruin of them. I’ll speak to 
Bob about the houses you mention.’ 

‘ But don’t say I spoke of them, because Mr. Eobert 
would be sure to be mortally offended,’ said Mr. Ford 
hastily. ‘ You see, sir, I am only a servant, and I’ve 
no right to presume, but when you ask me for my 
opinion, sir, I am bound to give it.’ 

‘ Of course you are. You are very useful to me, 
Ford : your opinion is always worth having,’ said Mr. 
Hazell reassuringly. ‘ Well, is there any more satisfac- 
tion about these houses in the Eow.’ 

‘ Oh, they’re growling away,’ said Mr. Ford rather 
vindictively. ‘ But I never mind them. I tell them 
the sore throats are caused by the hoar-frosts from the 
river. They’re goin’ to complain to Miss Hazell about 


IN THE LIBRARY. 


123 


the drainage. If she takes it up, sir, the thing ’ll have 
to be investigated.’ 

‘ Oh, but I’ll have Mary warned. Hadn’t you the 
surveyor round ? ’ 

Mr. Ford’s small eyes twinkled. 

‘Yes, of course we had, and he’d give in to any- 
thing. I don’t think it would matter much though a 
few of the children did drop off. How these Trevors 
get food for their tribe I can’t imagine. The twelfth 
has just arrived. It’s a disgrace.’ 

‘ It’s certainly very imprudent. Have you ever 
heard anything of the Beckers ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; Becker is drinking at Burnley worse than he 
did here,’ said Mr. Ford. ‘ Trevor has begun to tipple 
too. I’ve warned him twice lately.’ 

‘ I’ll speak to him. We mustn’t be too hard on him 
on account of the twelve,’ said Mr. Hazell, now quite 
restored to good humour. ‘You look well after our 
interests, Ford. You’ll be looking for a rise shortly.’ 

‘I am amply rewarded if I serve j'oa well. You 
are a generous master, sir,’ said Mr. Ford modestly. 

‘ Ah, but you won’t object to a little increase of pay. 
You deserve it, sir, and you shall have it. We’ll see 
when quarter-day comes round.’ 

‘ Don’t advance my salary just now, sir ; Mr. Eobert 
might not like it. I’d rather you gave anything extra 
to him.’ 

‘ You are too generous. Ford. I wish Eobert could 
hear you. He’d change his opinion of you, which, I, 
am sorry, is not very high at present. Do you ever 
think of yourself at all ? ’ 


124 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


‘Sometimes, sir. Perhaps III ask my reward some day.’ 
‘Well, when it comes, remind me of what I say, that 
111 consider it favourably, because I think your request 
will be quite in reason,’ said Mr. Hazell, with a laugh. 
‘ Come, we’d better go up-stairs. I suppose you’ve no 
objections to spend an hour with the ladies ? ’ 

Mr. Ford had no objections, and said so, but he did 
not add that to look upon the face of his master’s 
daughter was the object of his visit. The time for such 
a disclosure had not yet come. But Mr. Ford was 
cautiously and steadily paving the way. 




CHAPTEE XII. 


CONTRASTS. 


AEY was at the piano when they entered the 
drawing-room. Her face flushed when she 
saw Mr. Ford enter with her father, and 
she abruptly rose and went over to Mrs. 
Hazell’s sofa. In the recess at the oriel window 
Herbert and Madeline Eayne were deeply engaged in 
conversation. They were much together, and their 
walks and talks had become very precious to both. 
Herbert looked round quickly at the opening of the 
door, and a frown came on his handsome face. 

‘ Confound the fellow I ’ Madeline heard him say, and 
they both rose to advance into the room. 

* You seem all very quiet here,’ said Mr. Iliizell 
jocularly. ‘ Herbert, you ought to be grateful to Ford 
and me for coming to the rescue.’ 

‘ I’m afraid I’m not grateful. I was very comfort- 
able,’ said Herbert, without attempting to hide his 
disgust, and favouring Ford with his usual off-hand nod. 

‘ Don’t rise from the piano, please. Miss Mary,’ said 
Mr. Ford, looking appealingly at his master’s daughter. 
‘ Do be tempted to go back.’ 

9 



126 


HAZELL ^ SONS. 


* No, thank you ; I have been playing for quite half 
an hour past, to oblige these two,’ said Mary coldly, 
and, sitting down, took up her knitting, and kept her 
eyes fixed upon it. 

‘ I shall play something if you like,* said Madeline, 
always willing to make lierself of use. 

‘Thank you. Miss Eayne,’ Ford said, but not very 
graciously, for he was disappointed. 

When Mary sat at the piano he could stand near her, 
and look at her without rebuke ; and there were oppor- 
tunities in that distant corner of the room for saying 
certain things which were not suitable for the company 
to hear. But Mary had registered a vow that no such 
opportunity should again be given to Michael Ford. 

‘ Sing us something then, Lena,’ said Mr. Hazell, as 
he took his accustomed chair, knowing that in three 
minutes he would be soothed to sleep. 

Mr. Ford sat down, and, taking a book of photo- 
graphs, tried to be interested in them, but cast many a 
furtive glance at Miss Hazell. If she were conscious of 
these looks, she made no sign. Herbert, as a matter of 
course, took up his position at the piano, and watched 
Madeline while she played. She trusted entirely to 
memory, and her hands were at home on the keys. As 
they moved to and fro, sweetest melody followed them. 
A softened and beautiful expression dwelt on Herbert’s 
face as he looked at her, the swc^.t woman who had 
been showing to him as best she could the beauty of a 
good and noble life. I wish I could transcribe the 
talks they had had, but they would not materially assist 
the unfolding of this history, so I must refrain. 


CONTRASTS. 


127 


‘ You seem to feel what you play, ^liss Eayne,’ he 
said suddenly. 

‘ Why do you think so ? * 

A sweet, slight smile played upon her face as she 
asked the question. 

‘ Your eyes tell me. I never thought there was 
anything in music till I heard you play. Now it says 
all sorts of things to me.’ 

‘ What sort of things ? ’ 

‘ I couldn’t put them in words. I believe you know.’ 

‘ I think I do.’ She nodded gravely, and her hands 
glided into a graver, sadder melody, which was even 
more exquisitely sweet than what went before. 

These were dangerous minutes for them both. Mary, 
glancing once towards them, smiled in spite of her own 
perturbation of spirit. She fancied she saw a beautiful 
beginning there, the dawn of a new and exquisite life 
for these two, whom she loved, perhaps, better than any 
others on earth. 

' Nine o’clock, though, and I must go,’ said Herbert, a 
trifle hurriedly, as the deep tones of the hall clock 
droned the hour. 

‘ Go where ? ’ asked Madeline. 

‘ I have a confounded engagement, but I’ll be back 
before long. I’m awfully sorry, especially if you care. 
Do you know, I’m the most miserable wretch on the 
face of the earth.’ 

‘ Why ? ’ 

Madeline’s colour rose a little, and her eyes dropped 
towards the keys. But she played on. 

‘ Oh, I daren’t tell you, you’d never speak to me again,’ 
he said, still more hurriedly. ‘I wish I’d never been born. 


128 


HAZELL (5r> SONS, 


She raised her eyes quickly, with a laugh in them, 
but, when she saw his face, they became grave again. 
He seemed really distressed, and again she was deeply 
puzzled. Of late she had noticed a strange uneasiness 
about Herbert Hazell. He took moody fits, when he 
would scarcely speak. At other times he was boisterously 
merry, and seemed overflowing with good spirits. 
Neither was natural, and Madeline, though scarcely 
aware yet how deep was the interest in him, began to 
dread lest he had got into some serious trouble. And 
yet outwardly all seemed well, and he and his father 
had been very friendly, and there had been no late 
hours to be found fault with. 

* I must go. I’ll tell you all about it soon. Though I 
don’t know when I’ll get the courage. Good-bye just now.’ 
So he darted out of tlie room, without vouchsafing 
any explanation or apology to the rest. As for Mr. 
Ford, he was of less account with Herbert Hazell than 
the dust under his feet. The fellow was perfectly 
odious to him. 

It was a fine winter night, with just a pleasant toucli 
of frost to harden the muddy roads, and make the air 
clear and bracing. Herbert’s steps sounded quick and 
firm on the terrace under the drawing-room windows. 
Madeline heard them, and knew he had taken the 
direction of the upland path. The avenue turned in 
the opposite way. Herbert walked very quickly, for he 
was behind time. It was thirteen minutes past nine 
when he leaped the low hedge into the moorland and 
reached the grove. And there he found Jane Gregory 
waiting for him. She was very angry, lie knew by 
the set expression on her face, w^hen she saw him come. 


CONTRASTS, 


129 


* I’m awfully sorry, Janie/ he began eagerly, but she 
coldly pushed him off when he would have come near her. 

* Sorry ! very likely,’ she said scornfully. ' It’s always 
the same story. I’m not going to stand it any longer, 
Herbert Hazell.’ 

‘Well, upon my honour, Janie, before dinner gets 
over, and that, the time’s all gone,’ he said humbly, for 
she must be mollified. 

‘ Oh yes, of course ; you needn’t tell me ; I know all 
about it,’ said the girl quietly, but with marked 
bitterness. ‘ I’d known, though I’d never been told. 
You’ve to hang so long over her while she sings and 
plays to you, and go walking all over the grounds with 
her. I know just how it goes on, but it’s got to be 
dropped, that’s all.’ 

‘ Do you think I’m in love with her, Janie ? * 

‘ I don’t think it, I know it,’ was the sharp and 
scornful retort. 

‘Well, I’m not, then. She’s Molly’s friend, and a 
jolly nice girl. She can talk so sensibly to a fellow. 
Can’t I have a friend if I like, Janie ? ’ 

‘No, you can’t. You’ve got me, and if I’m not 
enough, why it’s a poor look-out for the future, that’s 
all, and the sooner you change your mind the better. 
I’ve mine made up.’ 

‘ What for ? ’ 

‘ I’m going to let the secret out.^ 

‘ Oh, you mustn’t, Janie. It would be the ruin of me. 
The governor would just kick me out of the house at once.’ 

‘ Well, it wouldn’t matter. You could get something 
to do. If you had a particle of spirit you wouldn’t 


I 


130 HA ZELL 6r» SONS, 

stay with the old man any longer. I’m sick of your 
way of going on, Herbert. Pa tells me you’re never at 
the club now, and, as you’re not here, I can guess 
where you are, though Kitty didn’t tell me. You 
never cared enough for me to give up or do anything 
for my sake, but whenever this dowdy, old-fashioned 
girl comes, you would go down on your bended knees 
to serve her. All Medlington says it’s to be a match. 
You can’t expect I find that a very pleasant thing to 
listen to, do you ? ’ 

Herbert was silent. He had not a word to say. 
So they stood for a moment, looking at each other. 
It would be difficult to say which was the more 
miserable of the two. Jane Gregory was consumed 
with a fierce jealousy, Herbert’s heart wrung with 
the pangs of an unavailing regret. Oh, to undo the 
folly of these past years ! Love, the sweet and true 
and ennobling, had touched him at length ; he had 
obtained a glimpse of what life might and can be 
for a man who tries to make it a noble and beautiful 
thing, and when his effort is crowned by the precious 
sunshine of a good woman’s love. Yes ; he had 
obtained his glimpse too late, for he could not now 
undo the chain of his bitter bondage. And yet the 
very intensity of his own unhappiness made him feel 
almost tender towards the girl with whose love he had 
played. He had begun his love-making with Jane 
Gregory simply to wile away an idle hour, without 
a thought of the consequences. 

‘ How much longer is this to go on ? ’ she asked in 
a hard, bitter tone, which had in it a note of ineffable 


CONTRASTS. 


weariness. Her face was very pale, her eyes heavy, 
for her heart was very sore. She had not been well 
nor justly treated — had she loved him less, she would 
have resented it more. 

‘ Well, Janie, what are we to do ? I suppose Til 
have to tell,’ he said gloomily. His evident objection 
stabbed her to the heart. 

‘ Yes,’ she said quietly, ‘ you’ll have to tell.’ 

‘ If I was only engaged to you, Herbert,’ she added 
at length, ‘ I’d let you off, though you don’t deserve it. 
I wish now I had died before I went to visit Aunt 
Tilly at Burnley.’ 

Herbert never spoke. He was thinking of his 
father, of Mary, and of Madeline Kayne. How would 
they look when they heard the story he had to tell. 

Just at ' that moment there was another pair of 
lovers standing together in the moonlight at the garden 
gate of Clieveden. They were anxious, too, for they 
had been discussing a grave problem ; but there was 
a perfect and beautiful trust in the eyes of Lucy 
Meredith as they were uplifted to the true face of 
the man whose wife she hoped to be one day. They 
had much to sadden and perplex them, but there was 
a perfect confidence between them — no concealment, 
no distrust, nothing to shadow their happiness except 
the clouds raised by the selfish hands of others. Their 
future was uncertain, but they were certain of each 
other’s faith, and that is much. 

‘ My mind’s quite made up, then, Lucy,’ said Eobert 
Hazell. ‘ I shall tell my father my intention to apply 
for that situation at Burnley.’ 


132 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


‘Very well, Eobert; and if he allows you to go, 
what a sacrifice you will be making for me ! I am not 
worthy of it/ 

‘That is for me to prove, Lucy. If it ends in my going 
to Burnley, you will not let me live long there alone ? ’ 

She moved nearer to him and laid her head on his 
arm. It was her answer, more eloquently given than 
in words. 

‘ Two hundred a year, Lucy ! You will need to be 
a very economical wife to manage such a princely 
income,’ he said, with gentle banter. ‘ Do you think 
we shall get something to eat and drink with it ? ’ 

‘ Surely. I am not afraid, Eobert. Mamma has 
taught me how to spend money. May I tell you, 
Eobert, I think I shall be happier there than I would 
be at the Priory : you know why.’ 

‘ Yes, and that is the only thing which reconciles me 
to it. But it will make a complete breach between us 
and Hazelwood, Lucy.’ 

‘ It will make no difference to Mary, Eobert.’ 

‘Not to Mary ; but my father will not permit her 
to visit us, I feel sure. It is very difficult to know 
what is right, Lucy. I am not at all sure of our 
manager. He has acquired of late too great an 
influence over my father. If I leave the brewery, 
the only check upon Ford will be removed. I am 
almost certain that he is presuming to think of 
Mary.’ 

‘ Oh, that vulgar little man ! Eobert, I cannot 
believe it.’ 

‘ It is true. He is too much at Hazelwood. It is 


CONTRASTS, 


133 


not his position as a servant I dislike, Lucy, it is the 
man. He is like Uriah Keep, affects a servile humility 
which disgusts me. He is at heart ambitious, scheming, 
and unscrupulous, only my poor father does not see it. 
He thinks him a paragon. Life is full of troubles and 
perplexities, dear ; it is often difficult to know where or 
how to turn. But I must not keep you here any 
longer in the night dews. Whatever happens, my 
darling will be true.' 

Ay, she would — true till death itself should part 
them for a little while. 

They lingered a little over their parting, as lovers 
will, then Eobert Hazell turned to go home, thanking 
God, as he had often done, for the womanly heart he 
had won. 

It was a fine clear night, and after leaving Clieveden 
he struck across the moor, which would save him a good 
half-mile. As he neared the knoll he saw two figures 
leave the shadow of the trees, and smiled at their 
attitude. It was not wonderful that he should have 
sympathy for another pair of lovers. As he looked 
again, he fancied there was something familiar in the 
man's figure and gait, and when they emerged into the 
full moonlight he recognised Herbert. The girl he did 
not know, but, when he saw them pause at the back 
gate of Miles Gregory's house, he divined who she was. 
He had heard a rumour once or twice that Herbert was 
running after Miss Gregory, but had never credited it. 
Since Madeline Eayne had come to Hazelwood he had 
discredited the gossip altogether, Herbert’s admiration 
for and attention to her were so very marked. He 


134 


EAZELL SONS, 


was surprised and disappointed in Herbert, he had so 
rejoiced in Miss Eayne’s influence over the wayward 
lad. Eobert did a most unusual thing for him — he 
stood still behind the trees at the knoll and watched 
the lovers part. He wanted to wait for Herbert — they 
might as well walk home together. After Miss Gregory 
went into the house, Herbert began to walk dejectedly 
back towards the knoll. He had his hands in his 
pockets and his eyes bent on the ground. Eobert 
stepped out from the trees and went to meet him. 

' Holloa ! ' was all that Herbert said ; ‘ where have 
you been ? * 

‘ At Clieveden, and came across the moor. When I 
saw you I thought I’d wait for you, and we could walk 
home together. Was that Miss Gregory ? ’ 

‘ Yes.’ 

Not another word would Herbert speak. 

‘ I heard a while ago that you were paying some 
attention to Miss Gregory, but I didn’t believe it,’ said 
Eobert frankly, but there was no answer. 

‘I hope you are not playing with the girl, Herbert. 
I don’t suppose you would care to marry her,’ he con- 
tinued ; but still there was no answer. 

‘ And what about Madeline Eayne, Herbert ? Mary 
and I hoped that your friendship would ripen. She is 
a sweet and noble woman, whom any man might be 
proud to win.’ 

‘ You mind your own business,’ cried Herbert, turn- 
ing on him like a lion. ‘ I don’t meddle with you. 
Lea\ e me alone, will you, and let me marry who I like. 
You and Mary will know all about it soon enough.’ 



CHAPTEE Xin. 

THE mothers’ meeting. 


FEEL so nervous, Lena, I am sure I’ll make 
the thing a failure. If I cannot speak, will 
you come to the rescue ? ’ 

* Yes, but I am not afraid for you ; you 
will behave splendidly, I know,’ said Madeline Payne 
cheerfully, as she drew on her gloves. They were 
together in Mary’s room dressing for the meeting to be 
held in the schoolroom at Paradise Eow, the first of the 
series of mothers' meetings which Mary had talked 
about so long. 

* Oh, you always think I shall do splendidly. Wait 
till you see your own and my miserable discomfiture 
to-night,’ said Mary dolefully. ‘ Isn’t it positively 
awful of me to have made no preparation for it ? 
But somehow I couldn’t, though I have tried several 
times.’ 

* You will speak from the heart, and you will touch 
the heart ; don’t fear. Are you ready then ? ’ 

'Yes. I wish mamma had been able to go. It seems 
BO presumptuous of a girl like me to speak to those 

135 



136 


HAZELL <5r- SONS, 


experienced wives and mothers. I hope they will not 
resent it/ said Mary, as they went out of the room. 

‘ Never fear. Nobody would ever resent anything you 
do or say. Don’t you know you have a smile which 
would melt the netlier millstone?’ asked Lena, with a 
laugh, in which Mary joined. 

They looked into the drawing-room on their way 
down. Mrs. Hazell was on her couch, still frail, but 
sweet and bright, and interested in everything and 
everybody. Mr. Hazell had just come up from his 
wine, and Herbert was lying back in a rocking-chair, 
twirling his thumbs and looking gloomily at the fire. 
He sat up when the girls entered, and cast a keen, swift 
glance at the face of Madeline Layne. It seemed to 
have grown sweeter since she came to Hazelwood ; the 
grey colour had brightened into a faint flush on the 
cheek, and the careworn lines had vanished from mouth 
and brow. Had she then enjoyed the rest and ease 
of Hazelwood ? Ay, but there was something more. 
Eobert was not in the drawing-room. His relatives had 
not seen much of him for a few days. He spent the 
greater part of his leisure at Clieveden. A cool reserve 
was maintained between his father and himself. Mary 
felt uncomfortably conscious that something was going 
to happen. She did not know, of course, exactly how 
matters stood between her father and Eobert, but she 
saw that the latter was preoccupied and meditative. There 
had been several railway journeys of late, too, for which 
she could not account ; but she tried not to anticipate 
trouble, and hoped her father would yet relent in favour 
of Lucy Meredith. 


THE MOTHERS^ MEETING, 137 

* Well, are you all ready ? ’ asked Mrs. Hazell, with a 
smile. 

‘ Isn’t the brougham at the door, papa ? ’ 

‘ Of course ; been there for half an hour,’ responded 
Mr. Hazell gruffly, but with a twinkle in his eye, which 
Madeline met with a smile. 

‘ Hot quite, Mr. Hazell, for I heard Thomas drive up 
as we left Mary’s room. You might, too, come and help 
us, sir.’ 

‘ I ? they’d soon run home if they saw my face at the 
door. Well, Mary, see and give them a sensible advice. 
Are you going to tackle Mrs. Trevor about the upbringing 
of the twelve ? ’ 

" Oh, what nonsense, papa ! I am only going to 
have a friendly chat with them. I shouldn’t dare to 
try and teach them about their children. It is only 
to brighten their lives a little. Lena is to sing her 
very sw^eetest for them. Don’t you think they will 
like that ? ’ 

‘Well they might,’ grunted Mr. Hazell, looking 
approvingly at Miss Eayne. He liked her very much, 
and it was at his special request that she had postponed 
her departure from Hazelwood. It had, indeed, been 
tacitly agreed that she should remain through the winter. 
She seemed to have filled a vacant place in the house. 
They all loved her ; even the servants waited upon her 
for love, and yet she was very quiet and unobtrusive in 
her ways. But she had constant consideration for others, 
and was always doing little kindnesses of which few 
people would have thought. She seemed to step into 
the breach somehow, and had become indispensable to 


HAZELL ^ SONS, 


138 

the household. And she was so happy in it that she 
was only loo willing to remain. 

‘ I really think, my dears, you ought to have Kitty 
with you to make and serve the tea,’ said Mrs. Hazell 
presently. 

‘ Oh no, mamma ; they wouldn’t like that, I assure 
you. Kitty is a good girl, but she is rather patronizing 
to the women in the Eows. I found that out when I 
sent her with Mrs. Trevor’s jelly and soup when she 
was ill. I expect she set it down with the air she 
assumes when she gives the tramps a piece of bread. I 
said nothing, but determined Kitty should do no more 
of my visiting at the Eows. Lena and I shall enjoy 
making the tea immensely, and the bread is all ready ; 
there is only the cake to cut. I mean to tell them I 
made it for them with my own hands.’ 

‘ Oh yes, you’ll be scrubbing their floors and washing 
their clothes for them immediately. You’ll have the 
whole concern finely spoiled in a month’s time,’ said Mr. 
Hazell grumpily ; but Mary only laughed. 

‘ Well, when am I to send Thomas for you ? ’ he asked 
then. 

‘ We can’t say, but I think we’d like to walk home, 
wouldn’t we, Lena ? Herbert, you lazy boy, what are 
you dreaming there for ? You’ll come and escort us 
home, won’t you ? ’ 

‘ Yes, I’ll come,’ said Herbert, and looked straight at 
Madeline Eayne, until her colour began to rise. Then 
a deep, dark shadow crossed the young man’s face, and, 
rising suddenly, he left the room. 

‘ Our boys have really grown too eccentric of late, 


THE MOTHERS^ MEETING. 


139 


Lena/ said Mary, with a sigh, as they went down- stairs. 
‘ I wish you had known them in the old days, they 
were so different and so jolly.' 

‘ Oh, they will be jolly again, Mary, never fear,’ said 
Madeline cheerfully, as they passed out to the front 
steps. Herbert was standing at the carriage door, ready 
to help them in. 

‘ M ell, what time shall I turn up ? ’ he asked as he 
shut the door on them. 

‘ Oh, about half-past nine, eh, Lena ? I think we 
shall be glad enough to disperse then. If we have 
collapsed sooner, we’ll just wait in the school till you 
come. I hope Nancy Ketterley ha^ the fires on, Lena, 
or we will have a struggle to get tea. If it is a failure, 
it will damp our energies all evening.’ 

‘ Molly is perfectly dissipated on the tea subject, isn’t 
she ? ’ laughed Madeline. She put up her hand to 
unloose her wraps as she spoke, and Herbert, leaning 
over the window, touched her hand as she did so. Why 
should that sudden touch send a strange thrill through 
them both ? Ah me ! had young love, the sweet and true, 
come to them only to bring with it its bitterest pain ? 

It was natural that Mary should be excited over her 
venture. She did not know how the mothers’ meeting 
would turn out, though they had all promised to come. 
She was truly anxious to benefit and help the dwellers 
in the Eow, and there were a few who appreciated her 
motive, and loved her for it. 

They talked all the way to the Eows ; and when they 
reached the school Mary was in the best of spirits. It 
was delightful for her to think she was engaged in 


1^0 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


some useful work, even though it partook of the nature 
of an experiment. 

The school was lighted, and Nancy Ketterley had the 
fire on and the kettle boiling ready for the young ladies. 
She came bustling out when the brougham drove up, 
and with several scathing remarks attempted to disperse 
tlie crowd of open-mouthed urchins congregated about 
the door. Nancy Ketterley was a great character. 
Opinion was divided as to whether she was a trifle 
demented or only exceptionally shrewd. She cleaned 
the offices at the brewery, and looked after the school 
cleaning and firing, and had a one-roomed house at the 
Eows. She was not well liked by the neighbours, as 
her tongue wagged very freely, and she had a way of 
laying her finger on their weaknesses. But it is to be 
supposed that Mr. Hazell found in her a good servant, 
as she had been in his employment for nearly thirty 
years. Perhaps her long service had given her a 
privilege ; at least she was not in the least particular in 
her remarks to her master or the members of his family. 
She didn’t approve of the mothers’ meetings, and had 
obeyed Miss Hazell’s orders with grudging willingness. 

‘I don’t wonder that the lads gape, Tummus,’ she 
said, as she took down a hamper from the box. ‘ It’s 
enough to make older uns gape. What do you think o’ 
this new idee ? ’ 

Tummus winked expressively, but didn’t venture on 
a remark. Miss Hazell being quite within hearing. 

‘ Drat ’em, get out o’ my way ! ’ said Nancy, elbowing 
the urchins aside. ‘ You can’t wonder at all, Miss Mary. 
They think it’s a swarry, an’ their mouths is waterin’.’ 


THE MOTHERS' MEETING. 


141 

‘ Poor little mortals ! We must have a night for the 
children soon/ said Miss Hazell, with a smile. ‘ That’s 
all now, Nancy ; shut the door. Oh, what a splendid 
lire ! Isn’t it cosy, Lena ? ’ 

• Certainly there was an air of comfort and a pleasant 
glow of light and heat in the school that evening. It 
was not a very large room, and, though Nancy Ketterley 
did not approve at all of the new innovation, she had 
done her best to make the place comfortable. It was, 
of course, for love of the sweet young lady, who had a 
way of winning every heart. With her own hands Miss 
Hazell spread a cloth on the schoolmaster’s table, and set 
in the middle a prettily shaded lamp and two beautiful 
plants she had purloined from the greenhouse for the 
occasion. Then Madeline Payne and she proceeded to 
cut the cake and set out the cups and saucers. They 
provided for forty ; there were almost sixty women at 
the Eows, but Mary could only count on little more 
than the half of these. Some were ill, and some too 
much occupied to come, and a few had surlily declined 
to accept her invitation. There are always in such 
things some cross-grained mortals who try the cold water 
cure for any new enthusiasm. But, on the whole, Mary 
Hazell’s invitation had been very cordially responded to. 
The majority were glad at the prospect of having a little 
brightness infused into their monotonous lives. Half- 
past seven was the hour of meeting, and a few minutes 
before the time the first knock came to the door, and in 
answer to Miss Hazell’s hearty ‘ come in,’ three women 
entered. They looked round the place in pleasant sur- 
prise. The desks had been removed, and some forms 

]0 


142 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


set ill a kind of circle round the fire, and every available 
chair had been brought into use to take away from the 
formal look of the place. The bright light and warmth, 
the pretty table, the piano with its shaded candles and 
bunches of flowers, and the smiling, welcoming face of 
the master’s daughter, sent a glow to their hearts, and 
tlieir faces brightened into smiles. 

‘ Come away, Mrs. Trevor, and Sally too,’ said Mary 
in her pleasant way. ‘1 am so glad to see you, Mrs. 
Brown. You know you wouldn’t promise. Take off 
your bonnets and shawls. Nancy will take care of 
them. Isn’t it bright and cosy here ? ’ 

‘ It is indeed. Miss !Mary ; it’s jes’ fine,’ said Mrs. 
Brown, a dull-eyed, stolid-looking woman. ‘ It’s like 
the thing. Eh, I smell tlie muffiiis! ’Tain’t every day 
we get hot mufiins, eh, Sally Trevor ? ’ 

In about ten minutes the whole of the expected 
guests arrived. All seemed pleased with their reception, 
and some bright faces grew brighter under the influence 
of Mary Hazell’s smile. 

‘I think we must begin with a hymn. I wonder 
what one you know best. I think everybody knows 
“ Nearer, my God, to Thee.” Lena, will you play it over?’ 

Lena did so, and then began to sing, her exquisite 
voice sounding through the room with such a melody 
that some of them, in their amazement, forgot to join in. 

But at the second verse they all sang, and some 
voices which had not been so raised for years joined 
falteringly in the sweet, familiar strains. There were 
some discords perhaps, but to Mary Hazell the singing 
sounded wholly sweet. When it was over, she reverently 


THE MOTHERS' MEETING. 


143 


closed her eyes, and, folding her hands, asked in a few 
simple, earnest words for a blessing on their meeting. 
Then the tea began. 

The two girls had purposely come down in their 
quiet dinner-dresses, and wore pretty aprons above 
them. They wanted, they said, to do honour to their 
guests. I am quite sure there never was anywhere a 
pleasanter meal than that tea. That the guests 
thoroughly enjoyed it was evident by the constant 
replenishing of cups, and passing of bread and muffin 
plates. 

Mary Hazell, with her own tea- cup in one hand and 
the kettle in the other, flitted about from one to another 
in great glee. The tea was of the best quality ; and 
the cake was pronounced splendid. The first part of 
the entertainment was, without doubt, a success. While 
Nancy Ketterley, with as little noise as possible, carried 
the cups into the anteroom, Madeline Eayne sang an 
old English ballad, with which most of them had been 
familiar since their childhood. 

Then Mary, with a little excited nervousness visible 
in her flushed cheeks and shining eyes, stood up behind 
the table to make her little speech. From the piano- 
stool Madeline Eayne watched her with a loving and 
fearless pride. She knew she would just say all that 
was required, and with the best grace and tact. Her 
confidence was not misplaced. Mary’s words were very 
simple, but they came up earnestly from a loving and 
unselfish heart. She began by saying that it was the 
duty of all men and women to do all that lay in their 
power to make those around them happy. She spoke 


144 


HAZELL (5^ SONS. 


of the influence cast by a bright spirit, and tried to 
show that every human being in the world had an 
influence to use for good or bad. And thus she 
gradually approached her more immediate subject, and 
clearly explained the aim of the mothers’ meetings. It 
was to foster a kindly interest, she said, in each other, 
as well as to make a little break in the round of the 
work of life. She spoke of her own earnest desire to 
be of some use among her father’s people ; and as she 
uttered her true-hearted words Lena Eayne saw several 
eyes fill with tears. She concluded by thanking them 
all for coming, and hoped that that evening was to only 
be the beginning of many happy ones to follow. She 
was listened to with the closest attention, and there 
was a murmur of applause when she sat down. Then 
their sewing and knitting was brought out, and 
Madeline Eayne read a short chapter from a most 
interesting story, which Mary proposed to continue 
from week to week. At ten minutes to nine another 
hymn was sung, and the first mothers’ meeting was at 
an end. Mary went over to the door and shook hands 
with each one as she retired. 

' God bless you. Miss Mary ! I haven’t had a night 
like it for years,’ said one, as she pressed the slim hand 
close in her toil-hardened palm. 

‘ Kor I, Miss Mary,’ said Mrs. Trevor heartily ; * and 
if Trevor ’ud mind the children I’d be glad o’ sich a 
treat every night.’ 

‘ That wouldn’t pay, mother,’ said Sally next. * Eh, 
Miss Mary, the singing was splendid ! ’ 

Some never spoke, only gripped her hand firm and 


THE MOTHERS MEETING, 


145 


fast, and answered her by their tears. Mary’s own 
eyes were not dry when she went back to Lena’s side. 

‘ Hasn’t it been splendid ? I never thought it would 
be half so nice. What did I say, Lena ? I felt so 
nervous, and yet I could hardly get the words out 
fast enough.’ 

‘ Say, iny darling ! just what was best and most 
beautiful,’ said Lena softly. ‘ God bless you, Mary ! 
You have a great work lying to your hand.’ 

‘ Do you think so ? I feel so uncertain always. I 
sometimes wish God would mark out the way very 
plainly. I seem to need it so. I have not confidence 
enough. Thank you for your singing, Lena. They 
liked that. You must never leave us now, you know ; 
you are a fixture among us.’ 

Madeline smiled, and just then the school door 
opened, and Herbert looked inquiringly in. Then he 
entered, and some one else followed him closely. It 
was Mr. Michael Ford. 

‘ Oh, Lena ! ’ whispered Mary, with a sudden shiver 
and tremble of the hand in her friend’s arm. ‘ Let us 
get> away home quickly. I cannot suffer that man ! ’ 



CHAPTEK XIV. 

THE WALK HOMK 


ICHAEL FORD was in many respects a slirewd 
man ; but his confidence in, and admiration 
for, his own personal qualities blinded him 
to things which even an uninterested observer 
could plainly see. Nothing could be more patent than 
Miss Hazell’s dislike of his attentions. Mary, indeed, 
came nearer being rude to her father’s manager than she 
had ever been in her life to any one, and yet Mr. Ford 
fancied himself getting on. He took Miss Hazell’s cold 
courtesy for shyness, her reserve for the dignity of good 
breeding, of which Mr. Ford, of course, knew nothing. 
She certainly treated him in a very different manner 
from what he was accustomed to among certain young 
ladies in Medlington, but he was not disconcerted. He 
considered himself good-looking, smart, and attractive, 
and his position in the brewery was very well assured. 
His heart had leaped at the mere prospect of getting rid 
of Robert Hazell, of whom he stood considerably in awe. 
If he should leave, then an incubus would be removed 
from Mr. Ford’s actions, and he would have a greater 
liberty to prosecute bis own ideas and further his own 

146 



THE WALK HOME, 


147 


interests. Bobert Hazell bad, in reality, no idea of the 
power and influence exercised by Ford over his father, 
or most assuredly he would never have contemplated 
leaving the brewery, at least until Ford had been re- 
moved or reduced to his proper place. Mr. Ford’s face 
wore a sprightly smile as he came jauntily into the 
schoolroom behind Herbert Hazell. They had not come 
up together, but had only met at the door. Herbert 
could not endure Ford as a rule, but felt that he could 
tolerate him to-night, seeing that his presence would 
give him Madeline’s company all to himself on the way 
home. Herbert knew very well that Mary was quite 
capable of keeping Mr. Ford in his place. To walk 
home alone with Madeline — perhaps to feel her light 
touch on his arm ! What a thrill the thought sent 
through him ! and yet it was a forbidden joy — nay, now 
it was a sin, because of the insuperable barrier his fully 
and rash haste had placed between them. 

* Good evening, ladies,’ said Michael Ford when he 
was half across the floor. * I was in the neighbourhood, 
and thought I’d look in to see how the affair had gone 
off Everything up to the mark, I hope. Miss Hazell ? 
I gave Ann Ketterley a word of comfort about it this 
morning. I hope she made the place right for you ? ’ 

* Ann did all I asked her to do, of course,’ returned 
Mary coldly ; * she had no concern with any other orders. 
Are you ready, Lena ? Is it still fine out of doors, 
Herbert ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; it’s a stunning night for a walk. You won’t 
need all these shawls and things. I suppose Ford and 
I’ll need to load ourselves with them ? ’ said Herbert 
lightly, but looking with melancholy eyes at Madeline 


148 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


Eayne. She had wound a bright scarlet scarf about her 
throat, and it seemed as if the vivid hue had lent a faint 
reflection to her face ; or perhaps her colour had arisen 
by her effort to still the beating of her heart. 

‘ We can carry our things ourselves,’ said Mary almost 
snappishly. ‘ There’s no need to trouble any one. You 
need not wait unless you wish, Mr. Ford. Ann will 
lock up all right ; she has done it too often to make 
any mistake about it.’ 

‘ Oh, I’m not in any hurry. I’d like the walk as far 
as the bridge anyway. Miss Hazell,’ said Mr. Ford affably. 
' Let me take your shawls.’ 

Mary hesitated a moment. She saw unmistakable 
pleading in her brother’s eyes, and for the sake of him 
and Madeline she was willing to sacrifice herself. If 
she had but known how vain was her kindly deed — 
nay, how it but made more bitter the pain in Herbert’s 
heart ! 

* Very well, come along then,’ she said briskly, greatly 
to the delight of Mr. Ford, who made haste to burden 
himself with the ladies’ wraps. So they all passed out. 
Ann Ketterley marched to the door after them, and 
watched them out of sight, muttering to herself and 
making the most extraordinary grimaces all the while. 
A light had suddenly dawned upon her, and her mind 
was in a curious state. It would not have been safe at 
that moment to have asked Ann Ketterley for her opinion 
of Michael Ford. 

As was to be expected, Mary and Mr. Ford took the 
lead, and the other pair came up more leisurely behind. 
Perhaps it was no object for them to hurry. The moments 
were too dangerously sweet for them to wish then\ over. 


THE WALK HOME, 


M9 


And they were to be the last, Herbert told himself. His 
story must be told to-night to Madeline Eayne. Mr. 
Ford tried hard to induce Miss Hazell to walk through 
the town, which was really the nearer way. Of course 
it was natural he should wish Medlington to be a witness 
to his triumph, but Mary chose otherwise, and insisted 
on going the more unfrequented though longer way. 

‘ And how did the meeting go off. Miss Hazell ? 
You’ve never told me yet,’ he ventured to say, encouraged 
by ]\Iary’s remarks on the weather and other common- 
place topics. 

‘ Oh, very well, thank you,’ said Mary briefly. . 

‘ How many turned out ? I was in the Eows this 
morning, and there was quite an excitement over it. 
You are very kind to them, ^liss Hazell, and I told 
them I hoped they’d be grateful.’ 

‘ They would resent that. I do not work for grati- 
tude, Mr. Ford, but to try and brighten the lives of my 
father’s people. I should prefer that you did not speak 
to them about me at all, if you please,’ said Mary hotly, 
for she was very angry. 

‘ I beg your pardon. I meant no offence,’ said Mr. 
Ford readily. ‘ I am as anxious as you can be for their 
welfare, I assure you.’ 

Mary bit her lip. Her pride was rebelling. How 
dared he speak of himself and her in that fashion, 
coupling their names, as if it could be possible for them 
ever to have a single thought in common. 

‘ Have they been complaining to you lately about 
their houses. Miss Mary ?’ asked Michael Ford, changing 
the subject, and speaking very respectfully. ‘ Don’t you 
think their houses very good of their kind ? ’ 


5 ° 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


* They may be good of their kind/ said Mary, with a 
sigh, ‘ but they seem to me to need a great deal done to 
them. Some of them are very damp. The little room in 
'I'revor’s house had water trickling down the walls while 
Mrs. Trevor was lying ill. I wonder she ever recovered.’ 

‘ Oh, it was damp, murky weather at the time, Miss 
Hazell. I think the houses are splendid. Compare 
them with other working people’s houses, and you’ll 
agree with me. But there’s no satisfying work-folks. 
Miss Mary, as you’ll soon tind when you’ve been among 
them a little wliile.’ 

Mary’s lips curled in the darkness, and her fine eyes 
flashed with scornful amusement. She knew enough 
about Michael Ford’s antecedents to feel that his remarks 
about working folk and their needs were much out of 
taste. But it suited him to forget that his father had 
been a miner at Burnley, and that his mother had 
wrought at the pithead at Wigan. It was creditable to 
him’ that he had got on so well, but his desire and 
attempts to act the fine gentleman, and to affect a 
contempt for the labouring poor, made him despicable in 
the eyes of Mary Hazell. She had not that foolish pride 
which despises poverty, and draws a fine line betwixt 
class and class. Had Michael Ford been a gentleman 
at heart, and a manly man, he would have found a 
true friend in Mary Hazell. But he was a sycophant 
and a time-server, a worshipper of mammon and rank, 
and Mary’s clear eyes had read him through and through. 

‘ What would you like done to the houses then. Miss 
Hazell ? ’ he continued, when he received no reply to 
his warning about the ingratitude of the poor. 

‘ I think they should all be drained in the first place. 


THE WALK HOME. 


15 


and larger windows put in,’ said Mary quickly enough 
now, for she was deeply interested in tlie sanitary 
condition of the Eovvs. ‘ I had a long talk with 
Doctor Winthorpe one day when I met him in Trevor’s 
cottage. He says light and air are the chief factors in 
the preservation of good health. To make the Kows 
quite what they should be, Mr. Ford, the houses would 
need to be rebuilt, and I am afraid that will never be.’ 

‘ If you wished it very much. Miss Hazell, I don’t see 
why it should not be,’ said Michael Ford, with eagerness, 
and turning his head to see her face. But Mary looked 
straight before her, and made answer quickly. 

* Mr. Hazell does not see the necessity for it. He 
says the people have lived for over thirty years in 
tliem, and brought up healthy families, and perhaps he 
is right. All this talk about sanitary precautions 
now-a-days only makes folk uncomfortable. It is the old 
story. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Now here 
we are at the bridge, so I shall say good-night, Mr. Ford. 
Herbert can carry the things the rest of the way.’ 

Mary looked back as she paused at the parapet, and 
saw the pair sauntering along arm in arm. A smile 
dawned on her lips, but she quickly banished it when 
she saw it reflected on Mr. Ford’s face. 

* It is not far to Hazelwood gates, Miss Mary,’ he 
pleaded. ‘Let us walk on. It is a pity to disturb 
them.’ Mary walked on then without a word. 

‘ Miss Eayne is a charming young lady. No doubt 
you will be delighted to have her for a sister. 
Medlington says it’s to be soon,’ said Michael Ford, 
thinking it no breach of good manners to allude to 
family matters to his master’s daughter. 


152 


HAZELL SONS, 


‘Medlington is in too great a hurry as usual/ 
returned Mary curtly. ‘ There is nothing between my 
brother and Miss Eayne.* 

* But there will be, or both our eyes have deceived us, 
Miss Mary,’ said Ford facetiously. ‘ There’s one not far 
off who won’t like the news. It vexed me when ^Ir. 
Herbert ran so much here. It wasn’t tlie thing for him.’ 

They were within sight of Mileswood, and Mary 
knew quite well that he was alluding to Jane Gregory, 
but she gave him no answer. 

‘You’ll be losing both your brothers soon, Miss 
Hazell. Mr. Hazell has been good enough to tell me 
that Mr. Eobert is to be married soon. Will you allow 
me to urge something on you. Miss Mary ? * 

‘What?’ 

‘Advise Mr. Eobert not to press for too big an 
income just now. The firm has sustained several 
losses, and it irritates Mr. Hazell to be continually 
asked for money. Mr. Eobert has spoken about taking 
the Priory for Miss Meredith. Your father will never 
consent to it. But if they would be content with a 
little less just now, they might get it by and by. 
Advise him to it. Miss Mary. I know Mr. Hazell’s 
mind on the subject, and he won’t change it.’ 

‘ I should never presume to advise my brother/ said 
Mary in a voice as cold as ice. ‘ He is never wrong, 
and he will not ask too much. Will you excuse me, 
Mr. Ford, if I say I cannot possibly discuss family 
mattei-s with you. If you persist, I must turn and 
rejoin Herbert and Miss Eayne.’ 

‘Now, you are not understanding me, Miss Mary. 
I don’t want to presume. I have the good of the family 


THE WALK HOME, 


153 


at heart, and, if you’d believe it, I’d do anything for 
you,’ he s?id, with a passionate ring in his voice. * If 
you’ll only be kinder to me I’ll use all my influence 
with Mr. Hazell to have the Eows sorted. Only just 
say the word.’ 

Mary turned her back on Michael Ford and began 
rapidly to retrace her steps, he following rather 
dejectedly behind. Certainly the first hint of his 
intention had not been very encouragingly received. 

' Holloa ! have you fallen out ? ’ queried Herbert 
rather banteringly ; but when he saw Mary’s face he 
surmised what had happened. 

‘ Come, Lena, how slowly you have been walking,’ 
said Mary, taking her by the hand. ‘ Good-night, Mr. 
Ford,’ and with a distant bow she marched past that 
individual, taking Lena with her. 

Herbert could only bid the manager good-night also, 
and hasten after the ladies. Mr. Michael Ford, then, 
had received his first repulse, but he was in no way 
disconcerted. As he walked back to his lodging over 
the brewery gates he laid his plans anew, and built up 
his ambitious hopes once more even on Miss Hazell’s 
coldness and disdain. 

Mary chattered incessantly during the rest of the 
way home. She was excited. Madeline saw, and 
surmised what had happened. The other two did 
not speak much, both being occupied with their own 
thoughts. Mary had interrupted their talk just when 
it had become very earnest — but Madeline was not 
sorry. She knew that she loved Herbert Hazell, and 
that he loved her. But there need be no haste in the 
telling; there was time enough, and the present was 


154 


HAZELL ^ SONS. 


passing sweet. Ah, dear heart ! She did not dream 
that the last hour of such sweet happiness was past. 

‘ It is not late. Don’t let us hurry in, the night is 
so fine,’ said Herbert, as they emerged from the shadow 
of the avenue trees and went up the open side of the lawn. 

‘ Late 1 it is ten o’clock, I am sure,’ said Mary quickly. 
‘ Quite time we were all in the house.’ She disengaged 
her hand from Madeline’s arm as she spoke, and looked 
curiously at her brother, who had paused in the middle 
of the gravelled pathway. His face was pale, and 
Mary saw that he seemed much agitated. 

‘Will you go into the house, Molly,’ he said in a 
low voice. ‘ I want to speak to Miss Rayne.’ 

Mary nodded, a sudden tear started to her eye ; she 
hastily kissed Madeline, and ran up the broad steps to 
the door. 

Madeline stood still, trembling from head to foot. 

‘ I think we must go in too,’ she said in a faltering 
voice. ‘ It is late, as Mary says.’ 

‘ Hot yet ; come down the low road with me. I must 
speak to you, Madeline,’ said Herbert Hazell hoarsely. 
‘ Oh, my darling, I am the most miserable man on the 
face of the earth.’ 

•' Why ? ’ 

Her sweet face grew radiant in its compassionate 
tenderness. She slipped her gentle hand through his 
arm, and led him away from before the lighted 
windows. He had called her his darling, and, if she 
was so, had she not the right to comfort and help 
him if she could. 

‘ Why will you blame yourself so ? ’ she asked in a 
low, soothing voice. ‘ You have tried so hard to do 


THE WALK HOME. 


155 


right of late. There is no use brooding over the past, 
though there may be much to regret in it. It is the 
future you have to do with now. If you make it noble 
and true, you will soon forget all that w-as unworthy.’ 

Every brave, womanly word she uttered stabbed him 
to the heart. 

‘It is not that — it is not that!’ he said hoarsely. 
‘ If it were only that, I should be a happy man. I love 
you, Madeline, as truly as ever man loved woman. 
You could have made a man of me had I met you 
sooner. I shall be thankful if you care nothing for 
me, if you only despise me as I deserve.’ 

‘ But I do care for you,’ said Madeline Eayne in a 
low, trembling voice. ‘ It is not too late ; life is all 
before us, Herbert.’ 

She looked him full in the face, with eloquent eyes 
adding weight to her sweet words. He did not meet 
that look, knowing his own unworthiness. With a 
groan he turned aside, and, leaning against a gnarled 
oak trunk, covered his face with his hands. 

‘ It is too late 1 Don’t you understand ? There 
is another — woman, who is an inseparable barrier 
between us.’ 

Madeline grew paler, and even drew herself away 
from him. If he had sought her love, while bound by 
a tie of honour to another, then he was un worthier 
e”en than she had deemed him. 

•' It is worce even than you think, Madeline. If it 
had only been a foolish promise or a flirtation it might 
have been no obstacle,’ he said, still keeping his face 
hidden. ‘ But there is no hope ; for I have married 
her, Madeline. Jane Gregory is my wife ! ’ 



CHAPTEE XV. 

A TRYING HOUR. 


HEEE are some strange moments in human 
life, moments of feeling so intense and keen 
that they could not long be endured. It is 
well such do not occur often, or are much 
prolonged. Years of peace could scarcely atone for one 
such instant of agony. Madeline Eayne stood abso- 
lutely still for a moment, with her eyes fixed on Herbert 
Hazell. His face, however, was hidden, and he was 
unconscious of that stony gaze. Had his eyes for a 
moment met hers, the secret of her heart must have 
been revealed to him. It is not always easy to keep 
the feelings absolutely under control ; sometimes the 
tumult of the soul finds silent but unmistakable 
expression in the face. So it was at that moment with 
Madeline Eayne. But it passed. She crushed down 
her pain, though God alone knew how bitter it was to 
her. She was a lonely woman whom few loved. The 
very reserve and self-containedness of her nature gave a 
strange and passionate intensity to her feelings. Love 
for her could only mean deep, unutterable happiness or 
the reverse. She held nothing lightly. Her nature 

166 



A TRYING HOUR. 


157 


was too earnest to find ranch pastime in life. She had 
had a hard experience ; neglect, solitude, bitter battling 
for mere existence she had known, but never anything 
so unbearable as this. She was like a little boat drifted 
at ease on sunny seas suddenly overtaken by a cruel 
storm. But it passed, as I say, in a moment. She 
drew herself up, one breath, which was almost a sob, 
escaped her white set lips, and she turned her eyes, full 
of a compassion which was almost divine, on the bowed 
figure of the man at her side. He had given her a 
bitter cup to drink. He had sought her love, if not in 
word, in the thousand nameless ways to which a 
woman’s heart so quickly responds ; but he was weak 
and needed comfort. She suffered, but she was the 
stronger of the two. She felt that he waited for her 
guiding, and it gave her strength to be a ministering 
angel. It is born of pain, this angelic ministry with 
which many women bless the lives of others. Is it not 
true that the sweetest and most precious things of earth 
are bought by suffering ? I think, if you probe into 
the heart of things, you will find it so. 

‘ Your wife, Herbert ! ’ she repeated in a low voice, but 
very gently. ‘ This is a very sad thing, I think, for her.’ 

‘ Why for her ? ’ 

He flung up his head, and looked at her almost 
fiercely. He had expected pity for himself, not for the 
girl whose life his selfishness had blighted. He cared 
nothing for her, but she was his wife — weU might 
Madeline Eayne pity her. 

‘ Why for her ? ’ he repeated, when she gave him no 
answer. ‘It is a thousand times sadder for me, I 
think. You know very well I would give my right 
11 


158 


HAZELL 6r» SONS, 


hand, Madeline, to undo what I have done ; and it was 
more her blame than mine.’ 

‘ Hush, hush ! ’ Madeline’s voice rang out almost 
shrilly in its sharp rebuke. ‘ Do not make me think 
you even less worthy than you are. No man, but only 
a coward, would blame her, and I hope you are not a 
coward yet.’ 

‘ Well, but I must explain,’ he said, with the slightest 
touch of sullenness in his tone. ‘ I was fond of her, 
you know, and would have married her right enough if 
she had waited. The secret marriage was her proposal. 
She went to Burnley and stayed with her aunt for some 
weeks, and we were married privately there. It was 
all over in half an hour, and not a creature knew any- 
thing about it.’ 

‘ But why should it have been done privately ? ’ 
asked Madeline coldly and critically, as a judge might 
liave spoken. She had hard work keeping herself from 
despising him, and she would not spare him, though she 
saw how anxious he was to keep her good opinion, and 
to defend himself. 

‘ Oh well, you know, the governor would never have 
heard of such a thing. You’ve heard him on Gregory, 
and ’ — 

‘ You did not marry Gregory,’ put in Madeline 
quietly. ‘ The girl is a good girl. I cannot but think 
she has been badly used by you. A secret marriage is 
not a token of respect to any woman, Herbert, and 
there are only solitary instances in which it is justifi- 
able. In your case it was wrong.* 

‘ Well, I don’t know. The governor would probably 
have paid me off had I told him I intended such a 


A TRYING HOUR, 


159 


thing. You know how mad he is about Lucy Meredith, 
and I suppose there is a difference between her and 
poor Janie, who is a good girl, but not a lady, and never 
will be/ 

Again Madeline caught him up sharply. She thought 
the tone in which he spoke of his wife most offensive. 

‘ How long is it since your marriage took place ? ’ 
she asked in the same judge-like way. 

* Oh, it’s a good while. I forget the date,* he an- 
swered carelessly. 

‘Was it before I came ? * 

Why did she ask the question, I wonder ? Was 
her aching heart seeking some crumbs of comfort out of 
the chaos ? 

‘No, it was the week after.* 

‘ It will be ten weeks to-morrow since I came.* 

‘ Is it so long ? the time has flown on wings. If you 
had only been a month sooner, Madeline, this wretched 
thing would never have happened/ he said gloomily. 

‘ Why should you ■ call it a wretched thing ? ’ she 
asked, with a forced cheerfulness. ‘ Few men would 
think it a misfortune to have such a handsome wife. 
Well, what are you going to do ? * 

‘ I don’t know. I want you to help me, Madeline/ 

For a moment she turned her head away. His very 
calmness hurt her. Were all men alike selfish ? she 
wondered. Her idol was very poor clay after all. It 
was a wholesome lesson Madeline was learning even in 
these bitter moments, and one which would bring 
healing in its train. 

‘ How can I help you ? * she asked. Her voice was 
cold, but he did not notice it. 


i6o 


HAZELL ar- SONS, 


' It’ll have to come out. She won’t keep it any 
longer. It’ll make an awful rumpus, won t it? I wanted 
Janie to go quietly abroad with me, but she would not.’ 

‘She was quite right. I don’t know your wife, Herbert, 
but I think I admire her more than I admire you.’ 

‘ You are very plain spoken, Madeline. You’ll not 
half so sympathetic with a fellow in his trouble ; and 
yet you’ve been so jolly good to me. It’s for you I’m 
so down about this business. What would I not give 
if you were in J anie’s place ! ’ 

‘You forget whom you are talking to, and what you 
are saying, I think,’ said Madeline in a voice as cold as 
ice. ‘ There is no profit in such talk. Let us go into 
the house.’ 

‘ I know I’m a brute, but I’m a miserable wretch, 
Madeline,’ he said humbly. ‘ You've taught me to wish 
to do right, and be a better man. Don’t leave me in 
this lurch. Tell me what to do, and I’ll be guided by 
you. I am really anxious to do right.’ 

Again her heart was touched, and she looked at him 
with a more kindly eye. There was good in him, 
but oh, the fair flowers of noble manhood were choked 
with the weeds of selfishness and weak indulgence. 

‘ Do you want me to point out your duty to you ? ’ she 
asked, and a faint smile dawmed on her lips. Already 
she felt herself years older than he, and she spoke 
almost as a mother might have spoken to an erring son. 

‘Of course I do. There’s nobody else can. The 
governor would only fly into a terrible passion, and 
Mary would cry. She always does, and she doesn’t like 
Janie, I know. I’ve heard her come down awfully on 
her. As for Bob, he’d shrug his shoulders like the 


A TRYING HOUR. 


i6i 


Levite, and pass on. I suppose he’s got enough to do 
with his own affairs just now. So you’re really the only 
one a fellow can rely upon. Mrs. Hazell is very kind, 
you know, but, like myself, she hasn’t much backbone.’ 

‘Well, I think you know as well as I do what the 
first part of your duty is. You must acknowledge your 
marriage at once. You will tell your father to-night.’ 

‘ To-night ! ’ Herbert shrugged his shoulders. ‘ And 
what if he, figuratively speaking, kicks me out of the 
house. He hates Gregory like poison, and really he is 
a presuming little creature.’ 

‘ If Mr. Hazell elects not to forgive you, then you 
must just leave the house, and go and work for your 
wife. Poor girl, I am sorry for her ; you have not 
acted a man’s part, Herbert.’ 

‘ So you have said already. You are coming down 
very heavily on me; Madeline.’ 

‘ Not more heavily than you deserve,’ she answered 
quickly, and there was a note of weariness in her voice. 

‘ It’ll be an awful job telling the governor, Madeline. 
Won’t you help me ? He’s so jolly fond of you. You 
could make him do anything.’ 

‘ No, I won’t. This is a thing you must do yourself, 
Herbert. It ought not to be so difficult, for your wife’s 
sake.’ 

‘If she were like you, Madeline,’ he said gloomily. 

‘ You don’t know the kind of girl she is. She can’t 
help a fellow. She doesn’t care a fig whether he does 
right or not. It’s position she wants, though I’ve told 
her often enough there won’t be much position as my 
wife. It’s a miserable business from beginning to end.’ 


i 62 


HAZELL <5r* SONS. 


Madeline was silent. It was a miserable business ; she 
could not but pity the foolish pair who had bound the 
matrimonial chain about them without even the basis 
of mutual respect on which to build their family happiness. 

‘What do you suppose Molly will say to this?’ 
asked Herbert presently. 

‘ Mary will say and do all that is good and right and 
kind/ responded Madeline quickly. ‘ You need not be 
afraid of her. It is to yourself you must look. Y6u 
have a great deal to make up to your wife, Herbert. 
If she cares for you, this may only be the beginning of 
a happy and useful life for you both/ 

It cost her something to utter these words. But 
Madeline Bayne was nothing, if not unselfish. All her 
life she had been accustomed to set herself aside for 
others. But no sacrifice had ever touched her so nearly 
as this. She pleaded Jane Gregory’s cause at serious cost 
to herself. 

‘If you’d be a friend to Janie, Madeline/ Herbert 
began eagerly, ‘ she might get to be a little like you. 
If Mary goes to see her, will you go with her ? ’ 

‘ Not just at first ; Mary will want to go alone ; but 
by and by, Herbert, I shall go and see your wife/ said 
Madeline gently, and began as she spoke to move away 
from the shrubbery. The first excitement over, she felt 
very tired. She felt as if she could creep into some 
quiet corner, and sleep away the ache at her heart. 

‘ Am I to tell the governor to-night, then, Madeline ? ’ 
‘Yes, and if you like I shall speak to Mary. The 
sooner it is done the better now.’ 

‘ All right ; I’ll do it/ said Herbert, and drew himself 
up as he spoke, as if with a new courage. ‘ After all. 


A TRYING HOUR. 


163 


anything will be better than the misery of the last two 
months. You have been awfully good to me, Madeline, 
ril never forget it as long as I live.’ 

His eyes dwelt hungeringly on her sweet, pale face. 
He was to be pitied, as well as blamed, for that face 
was a thousand times dearer to him than Jane Gregory’s, 
with all its meretricious beauty. He could hardly 
restrain himself as he looked, for he knew that, but for 
that inseparable barrier, he should have had the right 
to kiss that face, and to call Madeline Eayne his wife. 

‘ What do you suppose shall be the upshot of all this, 
Madeline? Do you think it’ll make a complete earth- 
quake in the house ? You see, Janie will be even more 
undesirable in the governor’s eyes than Lucy Meredith.* 

* It seems to me, Herbert, that you are more con- 
cerned about what is to happen to you than about doing 
right in this matter,’ said Madeline wearily. ‘ I shall 
tell you what I think — that if your father wore to cut 
you off with a shilling, as the saying goes, it would be 
the making of you. Your life has been too easy hitherto. 
A little hardship would do you good.’ 

They walked in silence then back to the house. On 
the steps Madeline turned and laid her hand on his 
arm. Her face was very earnest as she uplifted it to 
his — very earnest, and very sad. 

‘ Herbert, God will help you, even yet, to live a 
noble life. You have had many mistakes ; let this be 
the last willingly made. Come out of this ordeal as a 
man, and let me be proud of my friend.’ 

Her words went quick to the young man’s impulsive 
heart. 

‘ God bless you, Madeline Eayne,’ he said warmly ; 


164 


HAZELL <5r» SONS, 


* there is nothing in the world I would not dare for 
your sake.’ 

‘ Not for my sake ; for the sake of what is good and 
right, and for her sake who has loved you well enough 
to become your wife. We must be very kind and 
loving to her, Herbert : that is our first duty.’ 

So she left him, and stole away up-stairs past the 
drawing-room, where Mary was singing the evening 
hymn quietly to herself — 

‘ I need Thy presence every passing hour — 

What hut Thy grace can foil the tempter’s power ? 

Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be ? 

Through cloud and sunshine, 0 abide with me ! * 

Madeline Eayne pressed her hand to her throbbing 
heart, and her lips quivered as she repeated the words 
quickly and falteringly to herself. She did not wait a 
moment in her own room — only hung up her hat and 
wrap and hurried down- stairs. She was surprised to 
find Mary alone in the drawing-room, and to see by the 
clock that it was ten minutes to eleven. 

‘ Mamma has gone to bed, Lena, and papa is in the 
library. You know Eobert is not to be home to-night. 
Will you have anything to eat ? ’ said Mary, jumping up. 

‘ No, thank you.’ 

As Madeline softly closed the door she heard the 
opening and shutting of a door down-stairs. Herbert 
had gone straight to the library. Mary cast a keen 
glance at her friend as she advanced into the room, but 
was disappointed at the expressionless face of Lena 
Eayne. It was colourless and tired, but there was no 
flush, no brightening eye, nothing to tell of anything 
but extreme weariness. 


A TRYING HOUR, 


165 

‘How utterly forlorn you look! Are you cold, 
dear? Come to mamma’s chair. You have stayed 
star-gazing too long.’ 

‘ Have I ? I am not cold. Sit down beside me 
here, Mary, quite close, and let us talk. This is how 
we used to sit at school.’ 

Mary had flung herself down on a cushion on the 
rug, and laid her head on Lena’s knee. Her soft, large 
eyes were uplifted to her friend’s sweet face, and there 
was a silent questioning in their depths. 

‘ Well, had you a pleasant walk ? ’ Mary asked, with 
the very slightest twinkle in her eye. 

‘ We did not walk ; we stood most of the time,’ said 
Lena, laying her soft hand on Mary’s bright head. 

Oh, her heart went out to her ! She could rely for 
ever on Mary’s faithful love. But once more she must 
forget herself and do her best to smooth a thorny way 
for another. She knew that Mary had a certain pride 
of her own which would receive a blow to-night. 

‘ I have a surprise for you, Mary.’ 

‘ Yes ! I hoped so, and yet not quite a surprise. 
It is what I have been looking for,’ Mary answered, 
with a most beautiful smile. 

‘I think not, dear, and I am afraid this surprise 
will not be quite pleasant. It concerns your brother 
Herbert.’ 

‘ And you, eh ? ’ said Mary saucily. ‘ Come, I am 
quite ready to be father confessor.’ 

‘ No, it does not concern me, Mary. I cannot beat 
about the bush. You are to have a new sister, Mary.’ 

‘ Yes, my darling, the sister I have so long loved,’ 
said Mary, and her arm stole round Madeline’s waist. 


i66 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


‘ No, no ! * Madeline withdrew herself almost rudely, 
but, remember, she had something to bear. 'No, no, 
you have made a great mistake, Mary. I shall always 
be your dear friend. If there is any little disappoint- 
ment in your heart, Mary, you will not visit it on her.’ 

‘ On whom?’ 

Mary drew herself back, and her eyes even flashed. 

‘ On the girl who is to be your sister. Can you not 
guess ? ’ 

‘ Not that odious girl at Mileswood. Oh, surely 
Herbert has never been so imprudent ^s to speak or 
think seriously of her.’ 

‘ Yes, he has,’ said Madeline softly, and she laid her 
hand again on Mary’s head as if to still the tumult. 
‘ And you are going to be to her what you have been 
to me, dearest, truest sister and friend, Mary. Don’t 
be bitter, for I won’t listen. You must do it all, Mary.’ 

' Why must I ? ’ Mary would have risen, but for 
Lena’s gentle detaining hand. ‘ Did he keep you out 
there to tell you he was in love with Jane Gregory ? ’ 

‘ Yes, and something more. They are married, Mary, 
and have been for two months.’ 

‘ Married ! ’ 

That was all Mary said. She looked straight at 
Madeline for a moment, then dropped her eyes, and for 
a long time not another word was spoken. She caught 
Lena’s hand, and, pressing her hot cheek against it, held 
it there for a long time. These two understood each 
other ; and when they rose at last, Mary had forgiven 
Jane Gregory for Madeline’s sake. 



Page 16G 








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CHAPTEK XYL 

AT DAGGEES DKAWN. 


HEN Herbert Hazell went into the library that 
night, he found his father fast asleep in his 
chair. The flushed face and heavy breath- 
ing told what had caused that sleep, even 
had the door of the cabinet not revealed the secret 
store. He hesitated a moment, and then tried to 
awaken his father. It was not an easy task ; the 
sleep of intoxication is more like a stupor than a 
natural slumber. 

‘ Hey, what is it ? It can’t be morning already,’ 
said the old man, at length opening his half-dazed eyes. 
‘ That you. Ford ? Ay, keep down the expenses. The 
lads must be taught to work before they spend. Holloa ! 
it’s you, Herbert. What do you want ? ’ he asked, 
sitting up, as he gradually awrikened. 

‘I wanted to speak to you, father.’ 

‘Ay, what about? Money, I suppose — always 
money. I can’t give you any. Ask Ford. He knows 
all about it. He says we can’t aflbrd to let Bob have 
the Priory. Something less will need to do him. 

167 




HAZELL 6- SONS, 


1 68 

They’d eat me out of house and home, he says, and 
he’s right. He’s a shrewd chap, Ford. You hate him 
because he clips your wings. But lieTl keep the old 
man right — ay, ay.’ 

A maudlin smile overspread the brewer’s florid face, 
and his head began to droop again on his breast. 
Herbert looked on in pity and amazement. He had 
really no idea that his father ever indulged too freely. 
He had thought lightly of the sin of drunkenness, but 
it was a different matter to have it brought home in 
this fashion. Involuntarily he stepped back, shut the 
cabinet, and then turned the key in the library door. 
He felt that it would be a bitter humiliation to have 
any of the servants see the master in such a state. He 
hesitated then, not knowing what to do. He thnnglit 
of Mrs. Hazell, of Mary, and of Madeline. He would 
keep it from them all if he could. 

Mr. Hazell was not asleep, at least he kept mutter- 
ing to himself, and his eyes were partially open. He 
was helplessly drunk. 

Herbert sat down by the fire, wondering what to do. 
If only Bobert were at home, he thought. Eobert was 
never at a loss in any emergency. He did not know 
how long he sat in silence watching his father’s troubled 
sleep, but at last the opening of a door up-stairs roused 
him. He rose, and went out into the hall, and met 
^ladeline Eayne at the foot of the stair. 

‘Well ?’ she said, and a tremulous smile touched her 
li})S. But he saw that she had been weeping. 

‘ Where’s Mary ? ’ he asked. 

‘Just gone up-stairs. I came down for my book ; I 



He 


met jMadeline Rayno at the foot of the stair . — Page 138. 








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A T DAGGERS DR A IVN, 1 69 

want to finish it before I sleep. It is Heine’s poems. 
Will you bring it out of the library for me ? ’ 

For answer Herbert stepped back to the library door 
and turned the key, then motioned her to the dining- 
room. 

‘ It seems as if you were made to help in every 
trouble,’ he said, with visible agitation. ‘ My father 
has had too much wine. He is not fit to go up- 
stairs. I wonder if Mrs. Hazell is asleep ? ’ 

‘ I can go up and see. She generally sleeps very 
soundly in the early part of the night. What is Mr. 
Hazell doing ? ’ 

‘ He is dozing in his chair. If Mrs. Hazell is asleep, 
and would not be alarming herself about him, I would 
get him to lie down on the library couch. Wouldn’t 
that be best ? ’ 

‘ Yes ; I’ll run up-stairs.’ 

She was gone as she spoke. With noiseless step she 
crept into Mrs. Hazell’s room, and over to the bed. 
Yes, she was sound asleep, and there was a sweet smile 
on her face, as if pleasant dreams haunted her. 

Very softly Madeline closed the door and ran down- 
stairs again. 

‘ It would be a pity to awake her, she is sleeping so 
sweetly. I think you should try and get Mr. Hazell to 
lie down in the library.’ 

She spoke decidedly. Like Eobert, she had always 
her wits about her in an emergency. 

‘ Very well, I wiU do that ; and if he sleeps till 
morning the servants will think he never awakened in 
the night. We need not tell. A little deception is 
12 


172 


HAZELL SONS. 


‘ Herbert’s wife ? ’ 

‘ Yes. How odd ! and what a shame to think that 
he should have a wife unacknowledged by us ! I have 
not been kind often in speaking about her. I sliall try 
and make up for it now. Perhaps it will not be 
very difficult to love her.’ 

‘ There is something lovable in every one, Mary, and 
she is very pretty. You are very good and kind, my 
dear.’ 

‘ Am I ? You don’t know me. I am full of pride. 
You don’t know the trial it will be to me to stop my 
ponies at Mileswood and go through the necessary ordeal. 
It will cost me more than you think to acknowledge Mrs. 
Herbert Hazell ; but it will do me good. What pitiful 
creatures we are, Lena, setting ourselves up above each 
other! This may be a very wholesome lesson to me, 
Lena.’ 

‘ Perhaps. But I cannot say I think you needed it,’ 
said Madeline. 

* Oh, you don’t know me. But there, I must have 
some humanity, and let you to bed. Why, how worn 
out you look 1 AYe forget you, my darling, in our selfish 
troubles. Good-night ! ’ 

She took the white, worn face in her hands and 
kissed it with peculiar tenderness. Perhaps she guessed 
something of the heartache underneath that sweet, calm 
exterior, but Mary Hazell had a delicacy too fine to hint 
at such a thing. But she did feel that her brother had 
not done fairly by Madeline Payne, and she intended to 
tell him so when the fitting opportunity occurred. 

Madeline Payne sat still when Mary left her — very 


AT DAGGERS BE A WN. 


173 


still — with her hands clasped on her knee, and her 
deep eyes fixed on the dying fire. Her expression 
never changed, but it seemed to her that once more 
she had to set aside the sunny gleams which had been 
shed across her way of life, and take up the sober grey 
threads which were evidently destined to make the web 
of her existence. A helper of others ; a witness, but 
not a partaker, of their joys ; a sharer, mayhap, in their 
sorrows ; a bearer of their burdens if she willed : must 
that be her destiny on earth ? Perhaps her woman’s 
heart failed her just a little, and yet she reproached 
herself for her complaining and her discontent. 

‘ Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law 
of Christ.’ To fulfil the law of Christ ! Could she 
desire any higher aim in life ? With these words ring- 
ing their changes in her ears, she fell asleep. 

As was to be expected, Mr. Hazell was conspicuously 
irritable next morning. He explained that he had 
fallen asleep in the library, and seemed to feel 
acrorrieved that no one had taken the trouble to arouse 

00 

him. He seemed quite to have forgotten all about 
Herbert coming into the library and persuading him 
to lie down. 

They went down to the brewery together. Herbert 
made up his mind that he would tell his father his 
momentous secret in the course of the day, though he 
saw well enough that, unless the master’s temper was 
smoothed and softened, things were likely to go hard 
with him. 

Eobert had gone to Wigan to stay the night, without 
giving any explanation of his business there ; but he 


174 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


arrived at the brewery before eleven o’clock. He 
nodded to Herbert as he passed through the counting- 
house, and went straight into his father’s room. 

Mr. Hazell, suffering from a racking headache, was 
in one of his worst moods. He was angry with Kobert 
for not being at hand to attend to the morning’s corre- 
spondence, and turned upon him like a lion. 

‘Well, sir, if it suits you to come to business at mid- 
day, it doesn’t suit me, and the sooner you learn that 
the better. What excuse or apology have you to make 
for yourself ? ’ 

‘ None, father. I am sorry if I have annoyed you. . 
I don’t take many holidays. I can still have the letters 
ready for the mail. Let me look at them,’ said Eobert 
in his quiet way, as he advanced to the table. 

But Mr. Hazell’s hand closed over the bundle of 
letters at his side. 

‘ Ford can attend to them. He is always at his post. 
You must not think we can’t dispense with your valu- 
able services,’ said Mr. Hazell, with a sneer. 

Eobert bit his lip. He did not often lose his temper, 
but he could not tolerate the very name of Michael 
Ford. 

‘I am glad you think so little of my services,’ he 
said, with a lightness he was far from feeling. ‘It 
makes my task easier. I resign my post in the brewery 
from to-day, though it is not very easy to define that 
post, sir.’ 

‘ Oh, you do, do you ? Yery well ; and where do 
you suppose you are going to get a living now ? ’ 

‘ That is my concern, and I cannot expect that you 


AT DAGGERS DR A WN, 


175 


will take any interest in my welfare. You have so 
repeatedly repelled any confidence I offered to place in 
you/ said Eobert, with a touch of sadness in his manly 
face. 

‘ Oh, indeed ! * 

Mr. Hazell wheeled round in his chair, and turned 
his angry eyes full on his son’s face. 

' Pray, what confidence did you place in me ? You 
asked me for an extravagant income, which I refused. 
There is time enough yet for you to marry, and if the 
girl really cares about you, she’ll wait for you. She’ll 
need to wait long enough now, in all conscience.’ 

‘ You are mistaken, sir. We intend to be married 
before Easter.’ 

‘Oh!’ 

Mr. Hazell was thunderstruck. 

‘ I have applied for and obtained the situation of cashier 
at the Ladywell pits at Burnley. I went to Wigan 
last night, at Mr. Edwardes’ request, and he has ap- 
pointed me to the vacant place.’ 

' And I suppose you posed before Mr. Edwardes as 
an injured innocent, persecuted by a hard-hearted, 
tyrannical father ? but ’ — 

‘You are mistaken, father. I told him nothing, 
except that I wished to leave the brewery.’ 

‘ And what salary are you to get ? ’ 

‘ Two hundred a year, and the house. It will do in 
the meantime.’ 

‘ It’s a downcome from the Priory,’ said Mr. Hazell 
drily. ‘ Well, you’ll perhaps learn to regret your 
mercies there. It is just as they say, — as Ford has 


76 


HAZELL SONS. 


often said, — a man toils to bring up a family, who 
give him only ingratitude in return. If 1 could see 
Edwardes, I’d give him the true version of the afifair.' 

Eobert was silent a moment. There was something 
he was very anxious to speak about, yet he hesitated. 
He was no coward, but he had never quite overcome his 
childish fear and awe of his father. And yet he felt it 
his duty to speak. 

* I hardly know how to word what I am going to 
say, I feel so certain you will misunderstand me,’ he 
began. ‘ But I do think Ford has more influence here 
than any servant ought to have. I don’t trust him. 
Father, you will be careful with him. Don’t let him 
know your affairs too intimately.’ 

Mr. Hazell’s lip curled. 

‘ Leave me to manage my own business, if you 
please ; I am not in my dotage,’ he said cuttingly. ‘ I 
am thankful I have such a friend and counsellor as 
Michael Ford. He’ll do more for me than my own 
flesh and blood.’ 

‘ Ay, in the meantime, but it is to serve his own 
ends,’ said Eobert, with more passion than he usually 
exhibited. ‘I see what he is aiming at well enough. 
Do you know that he is actually aspiring to Mary’s 
hand, father ? ’ 

‘ And why not ? She might go farther and fare 
worse. A good, honest, gentlemanly fellow, who has 
brains to help him on. I tell you. Ford ’ll be at the 
top of the tree yet.’ 

‘ Maybe, but it will be at your expense,’ said Eobert 
hotly. ^ It is impossible to listen to you, sir, and be 


AT TAG GETS TEA WN, 


177 


calm. Give our Mary to that ignorant, self-conceited 
fellow ! Oh, surely, sir, you will stop short of that ! ’ 

‘ I wish you’d .stop short of impertinence, and get out 
of here, since you have resigned your post,’ said Mr. 
Hazell testily, and pointing to the door as he spoke. 
‘ You’ve had your say, you’ve tried your best to black- 
ball an honest fellow’s character, and you haven’t 
succeeded. I don’t think any more of you for it, and 
you can tell Miss Meredith, with my compliments, that 
I wish her joy of her bargain.’ 

It was Mr. Hazell’s habit often to speak without 
thinking ; in moments of anger, indeed, he was hardly 
responsible ; but every word stabbed his son to the 
heart. He turned on his heel without a word, and 
walked through the counting-house with his eyes on 
the ground. In the yard outside he met Michael Ford, 
who touched his hat to him with a bland smile. 

‘ Fine morning, Mr. Eobert. Hope you had a pleasant 
little trip.’ 

‘ Get out of my sight,’ was the unexpected reply to 
Mr. Ford’s friendly greeting, and without another word 
Robert Hazell passed out of the gates into the street. 




CHAPTEE XVII. 

GATHERING CLOUDS. 

* ^ become o’ Herbert this long time, 

Janie ? He hasn’t been here, I’m sure, 
for nigh a week.’ 

Mrs. Gregory was preparing the flour for 
her weekly baking, and the little kitchen at Mileswood 
was pleasantly warm with the heat from the oven. 
Jane was sitting on a low chair with her idle hands 
folded behind her head, and her eyes fixed on the fire. 
Her morning dress was not particularly tidy, and she had 
a little row of curl-papers along her brow. Her face was 
pale and sallow, and wore a discontented, anxious look. 

‘ 1 m sure I don’t know, ma,’ was all she answered ; 
but she gave the cat a push with her foot as if the 
question irritated her. 

‘Your pa’s got worked up, Janie, till he’s real mad,’ 
continued Mrs. Gregory, as she vigorously mixed her 
flour. * I shouldn’t wonder if he goes up to Hazelwood 
himself. It was a mistake, Janie, and I wish I’d never 
let you go to yonr Aunt Susan’s. It wouldn’t have 
happened if you’d been at home.’ 


GATHERING CLOUDS, 


179 


* It might an’ it might not,’ answered Janie carelessly. 
‘But pa needn’t bother. It’s no business of his, I 
suppose. It’s me that’s got the worst of it’ 

‘ That isn’t a way to speak, my gel,’ said Mrs. Gregory 
severely. ‘You know you’re the very apple 0’ your 
father’s eye, let alone mine, an’ you might have done better. 
There’s young Higginbotham was quite gone about you, 
not to speak o’ Jonas Butterby at the Bell Inn. Perhaps 
they aren’t fine gentlemen, but they’re honest chaps, an’ 
they could ha’ given you a good livin’, which is more than 
the one you’ve got will ever be able to do, I doubt, if folks 
is to judge from appearances. The old man, of course, 
has a mint o’ money, but will keep a tight hand on it, 
an’ there’s the missus ’ll get a big haul. I wish it had 
never been, Janie. I doubt you’ll never have peace o’ 
mind about it. There’s an awful pride about them 
Hazell’s, I can tell you, and you’ll find it out to your cost.’ 

Janie made no reply, except to give the cat another 
push, which sent her away puffing in a passion. 

‘ It’s not easy for a mother to see a man ashamed o’ 
her daughter, even after she’s an honest wife,’ continued 
Mrs. Gregoiy in an aggrieved voice, for it was a sore 
subject with her, ‘ an’ her might ha’ done so well.’ 

‘ I wish you’d hold your tongue, mother. I can’t 
help it now. I wish I could recall the vows I said in 
that old church at Crossthwaite. It seems an awful 
thing that so little should bind one for life. I suppose 
I couldn’t get out o’ it now ? ’ 

‘ No, worse luck. Your father made sure it was all 
right whenever he knew of it. That’s what comes o’ 
doin’ things on the sly, my gel, an’ without asking an 


i8o 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


advice. I suppose he rues it as well as you. I can’t 
for the life o’ me see why he should have married you 
at all ; or what difference it has made. It’s put an end 
to your swectheartin’, that’s alL If he cared anything 
about you, Janie, he’d be as anxious to have you aside 
o’ him as otlier men are. He’d never ha’ rested till he 
got you a home all fair an’ square.’ 

Jane Gregory clenched her hand on her knee, and one 
bitter tear started to her eye. That was the hardest of 
it all. She could have borne inattention, neglect even, 
if she had not been haunted with the thought that, if 
Herbert Hazell had ever cared for her, his love had 
died. He was her husband, and yet she scarcely dared 
think of him as such. The name, so dear to happy and 
cherished wives, had no meaning for her. 

‘ An’ what’s to be the upshot o’ it ? ’ asked Mrs. 
Gregory in the same aggrieved voice. ‘ How long is 
this to go on ? I wish you’d tidy up a bit, an’ do 
summat for your meat, Janie. It’s not nice to see a 
young girl so lazy and indifferent.’ 

‘ I wish you’d leave me alone. I wish I’d never been 
born,’ retorted Janie quickly and passionately. 

Just then Patty, the little ‘help,’ who had been washing 
the front door steps, came rushing in excitedly, and an- 
nounced that there was a real carriage at the gate and 
that Miss Hazell was coming up the garden. 

Janie jumped up, all her listlessness gone, and Mrs. 
Gregory instantly flew into a terrible flutter, and 
tossed off her baking apron. ^ I’ll take her into the 
parlour an’ set a match to the fire while you make 
yourself decent. It’s you she’ll be wanting to see, likely.’ 


GATHERING CLOUDS, 


i8i 


‘No, mother, wait here. Now, Patty, there she’s 
knocking. Go to the door, and if she asks for mother 
or me, take her into the parlour and set a match to the 
fire. And mind to shut the parlour door after you when 
you come out, so as I’ll get up-stairs to change my dress,’ 
said Janie quietly. ‘ Do you understand me ? don’t 
forget a thing I have told you. See, take off that dirty 
apron. Now, off you go.’ 

Patty, quite overwhelmed with a sense of her own 
importance, proceeded out to the lobby again, and Jane 
Gregory stationed herself behind the kitchen door, which 
was a little ajar, so that she could hear what passed at 
the front door. 

Patty delivered her message quite correctly, and, when 
Miss Hazell asked for Miss Gregory, ushered her straight 
into the parlour. 

‘ I’d better go in, Janie,’ said Mrs. Gregory in a loud 
whisper. ‘ I’m quite decent. It’s a shocking shame to 
leave the young lady by herself till you get ready, and 
very ill-bred as well.’ 

‘ Don’t go, mother, if you please,’ said Janie so earnestly 
that her mother could not deny her. ‘ I won’t be a 
minute. I’ll just take out my hair, and put on an 
apron, without changing my frock at all.’ 

It was not very easy for Mrs. Gregory to keep 
away from the room where Miss Hazell was, but she 
saw that Janie was very anxious to meet Miss Hazell 
alone, so she contented herself with an admiring peep 
through the glass door at the brougham waiting outside 
the gate, and then betook herself up-stairs to Janie’s room. 

‘ Now, whatever you do, don’t let her trample on you. 


i 82 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


Eemember, she’s your own sister-in-law, an* that you’re 
as good as she,’ said Mrs. Gregory, seating herself on a 
trunk, and speaking with energy. ‘ I really wish you’d 
let me come in. I’d set her right about that in two 
minutes.* 

‘ It’s because I’m afraid you’ll say too much I don’t 
want you to go in,’ answered Janie, as she deftly 
arranged her hair. ‘ Perhaps she doesn’t know anything 
about it, and, if she doesn’t, I won’t tell her. I’ll maybe 
come out for you after I see what she wants.* 

Jane Gregory was very much excited. There was a 
red spot on her cheek, and her hands trembled as she 
fastened on her apron. She did not know what this 
visit might portend, and she shook with nervous appre- 
hension when she went down-stairs to the parlour. 

The door was close, but not shut, so that she entered 
noiselessly. Mary Hazell was standing at the window 
with her back to the door. In spite of the intense 
feeling of the moment, Jane Gregory noted the graceful 
outline of her figure, the exquisite draping of her tailor- 
made gown, the perfect fit of the little sealskin jacket. 
Everything was plain to severity, but most ladylike and 
becoming. Mary Hazell had a perfect taste in dress. 

* You wish to see me. Miss Hazell,* she said timidly. 
Indeed, her voice sank almost to a whisper. 

Instantly Mary turned round, and advanced with 
extended hand. ' Yes, I wish to see you, my brother’s 
wife. Had I known, I should have come long ago.’ 

Mary spoke a trifle quickly, for she felt the ordeal 
keenly; but her eyes were kind, the pressure of her hand 
firm and true. The greeting was so unexpected that 


GATHERING CLOUDS. 


183 

Jane Gregory burst into tears. Mary drew her gently 
to the sofa, and made her sit down. She felt nervous 
herself, and very sorry for the girl. 

‘ Don’t be so distressed,’ she said in her kind way, 
and she laid her hand on her shoulder. 

‘I’m very sorry!’ sobbed Jane Gregory. ‘I ought 
never to have done it ; but I didn’t Uiink. You shouldn’t 
be so kind to me.’ 

‘ Why not ? ’ Mary smiled as she asked the question. 
‘ It is we who have been unkind to you. But it will be 
all right now.’ 

‘ Do they all know at Hazelwood ? I did not know 
Herbert meant to tell.’ 

‘ Mamma knows. She sent her love to you, and she 
will come to see you when she is able if you do not 
come first to see her,’ said Mary cheerfully. 

‘ What did Mr. Hazell say ? Was he very angry ? ’ 

‘ He doesn’t know yet, but he will to-day,’ raid Mary 
quickly. ‘He may be a little angry, but it will soon 
pass. But tell me why you didn’t marry in the ordinary 
way. Was there any use for all this secresy ? ’ 

Jane Gregory hung her head. She felt ashamed 
before Mary Hazell’s calm, serene eyes. 

‘ I don’t know. I wouldn’t do it again. How can 
you speak so kindly to me when I have behaved so 
badly to you ? I know I am not so good as you, nor 
fit to be friends with you.’ 

How quickly did Jane Gregory’s pride and boastful 
independence melt away before Mary Hazell’s smile. 
She could have knelt and kissed her feet, she was so 
grateful for her kind, sweet, womanly words. 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


184 

‘ Oh, hush ! of course we are going to be very 
friendly. You and Herbert must set up house at once, 
and what fun it will be furnishing and setting it in 
order ! I hope you are a trifle more practical than 
either he or I, or the result will be rather doubtful.’ 

‘ How different you are from what I thought ! ’ 
exclaimed Jane Gregory, or Jane Hazell, as we must 
now call her. 

‘ Different — how ? ' 

‘ Oh, just. I used to think you so proud and 
haughty when I saw you driving past. I was jealous 
of you, and afraid of you too.’ 

‘ Afraid of me ! I am very harmless,’ said Mary, 
with a laugh. ‘ But I am not nearly so good as you 
think, as you will soon find out, if Herbert has not told 
you already.’ 

‘ He didn’t speak much about you. He hated me 
asking questions about Hazelwood, and I couldn’t help 
being interested, you know. Will it not he a great trial 
for you all to have everybody know I am his wife ? ’ 

‘Oh no ! Why should we be ashamed of you ? I 
hope Herbert will be good to you, my dear, and that 
you will be very happy,’ said Mary, as she rose. 

‘ Won’t you see ma ? She’ll be dreadfully dis- 
appointed if you don’t speak to her. She’s been awful 
angry with me about it, and so has father.’ 

Mary would rather have excused herself, but perhaps 
she had better go through the whole ordeal at once ; so 
Mrs. Gregory was summoned to the parlour. She had 
been concocting quite an eloquent speech for Miss 
Hazell’s benefit, but somehow it vanished clean out of 


GATHERING CLOUDS. 


185 

her memory at sight of Mary’s sweet face and kind 
smile. And all that the good mother could do was to 
clasp the dainty gloved hand in both her own, and 
repeat, with tears in her eyes, that she was proud and 
glad to see her. 

So the ordeal passed off better than any of them 
had anticipated, and Mary left the house leaving 
sunshine behind her. Just as she was about to step 
into the brougham, she saw Eobert in the distance 
walking quickly up the river-side from the town. She 
told the man to wait, and walked on to meet him. It 
was so unusual for Eobert to be without the precincts 
of the brewery in business hours that she felt curious 
to leain the cause. When she came near him, she saw 
that his face wore an unusually anxious and troubled look. 

‘ I could hardly believe that it was you, Eobert. 
Are you going home ? ’ she said, when she joined him. 

‘ No, I’m going to Clieveden.’ 

‘ Across the moor ? ’ 

‘ Yes. Couldn’t you send Pillans home, and walk 
with me a bit.’ 

‘ Yes, I can.’ 

‘ What were you doing in at Gregory’s ? * 

‘ Seeing Jane,’ said Mary, and suddenly her eyes 
overflowed * Oh, Eobert, such a thing has happened 1 
We seem to be all going wrong. Herbert has been 
married to her for more than three months.’ 

‘ Married to whom ? ’ 

‘Jane Gregory.’ 

‘ Impossible ! ’ 

‘Quite true. Oh, Pillans, just go into town, and 
13 


i86 


HAZELL (Sr* SONS, 


give Mrs. Hazell’s orders without me. Perhaps I shall 
get you coming back/ 

Pillans touched his hat, and drove away. He was 
puzzling himself over his young mistress’s call at Miles- 
wood. Of course he had not a suspicion of the truth. 

Arm in arm the brother and sister turned round by 
Gregory’s garden wall, and over the stile into the moor. 
It was a fine winter morning. The hoar-frost still 
shone on the short smooth turf, though the sun had 
melted the scattering on the leafless trees. 

' Yes, we’re all going wrong, Molly,* said Eobert 
Hazell, with a sigh, as if the thing weighed on his heart. 

‘ Herbert married to Jane Gregory ! Oh, impossible ! ’ 

‘ It’s quite true. He told Madeline last night. He 
is to tell papa to-day.’ 

‘ I thought, and was hoping, he was learning to care 
for Madeline, Molly.’ 

‘ So was I. Oh, it would have been splendid. But 
I am sorry for the girl.’ 

‘ So you went to see her whenever you found it out. 
Bless your kind heart, Molly ! Papa will not be 
pleased about it.’ 

‘ I am afraid not. Don’t you think, Eobert, that papa has 
changed very much of late. He was not always so irritable.* 

‘ He has changed. It has come to an open rupture 
between us. I have spent my last day in the brewery, 
Mary.’ 

Mary never spoke, but her lips trembled. * I was 
at Wigan last night seeing Mr. Edwardes, and I have 
accepted the situation of cashier at the Lady well Mines 
at a salary of two hundred a year and a house/ 


GATHERING CLOUDS. 


187 


‘ And you will go away to Burnley to live, I suppose.’ 

‘ Yes, Lucy and I together. We shall be married 
before Easter.’ 

‘ You will be very happy, happier even, I think, than 
you would have been at the Priory, because your 
conscience will be clear. It is we who are left who 
will miss you.’ 

‘ I hope papa will not hinder you from coming to see 
us at Burnley.’ 

‘ Oh, 1 hope not ; surely not. Herbert will have to 
leave the house too, and set up a home for his wife. 
How changed Hazelwood will be ! ’ 

‘ You will not leave it for a while, Mary ? ’ 

‘ I ! Oh, never. Madeline and I will be stationary 
there for ever,’ said Mary lightly. ‘ I hope this will 
make no difference to her. Herbert has not acted very 
fairly by her.’ 

‘ No, he hasn’t. His conduct has neither been manly 
nor right. He was true neither to one nor another. 
He is deplorably weak, Mary. He needs a woman like 
Miss Eayne to make something of him. What kind of 
person is his wife ? ’ 

‘ I hardly know. I only saw her for a few minutes.’ 

There was a moment’s silence. 

' Mary, do you think father takes too much sometimes?’ 

‘ I have been afraid of it,’ Mary answered in a low 
\'oice, as if she felt ashamed to own it. 

‘ Mrs. Hazell does not suspect it?’ 

‘ I don’t think it. It w^ould grieve her very much.’ 

‘ You might w’atch, Mary.’ 

‘ I’ll try.’ 


i88 


HAZELL ^ SONS. 


* There is another thing. I hate to speak of it to 
you, dear, but it will ease my mind. I have suspected 
what brings Ford so much to the house. You don’t 
encourage him, Mary ? ' 

< 1 2 » 

Mary’s face flushed with indignation. 

‘ It is wrong to hate any one, Robert, but I do hate 
him. It makes me ill to have him talk to me.’ 

‘ Has he ever hinted anything to you V 

* Yes, last night, when we were walking home from 
the mothers’ meeting. I endured him only for Madeline 
and Herbert’s sake. Had I known what I know now, 
I should have acted differently. But I think I have 
given Mr. Ford his lesson.* 

‘ He has too much influence with father. I don’t 
know whether I am doing right to leave the brewery. 
I was a kind of check on Ford. I am confident that 
it is Ford who has put my father so much against us. 
But father is very obstinate. It is not easy to have 
the patience with him that one ought. Won’t you 
come all the way to Clieveden ? ’ 

‘ Not to-day. Give Lucy my love. You will be 
home V.3 usual to dinner ? ’ 

* Oh yes ! Surely my father won’t grudge me 
house-room for a day or two in spite of his anger. 
Good-morning, dear.’ 

‘ Good-morning.’ 

They were beyond the reach of any observant eye, so 
they kissed each other as they parted. Mary retraced 
her steps with a heavy heart. 



CHAPTEE XVIII. 

HUSBAND AND WIFE. 


HEEBEET HAZELL was sitting at the 
)arlour window that afternoon about four 
(’clock. She was looking her best. Miss 
Hazell’s visit had infused new life into her, 
and she felt she had something to live for. She had 
the good opinion of her husband’s kindred to earn, and 
she told herself that she would spare no pains to com- 
mend herself to them. She was pleased and happy as 
she sat there sewing busily, and watching for Herbert 
to pass. Her face looked sweet and tender as if none 
but happy thoughts reigned in her heart. She had a 
more womanly ambition than of yore, an ambition to be 
a good, true wife, a great desire to be more like Mary 
HazelL It was just four, when, lifting her head from 
her sewing, she saw her husband crossing the bridge. 
He was walking very fast, and had his head in the air. 
Even at such a distance she saw that his face was 
flashed, and that he seemed excited. She began to 
tremble, fearing that some new complication had arisen. 
He nodded and smiled to her at the garden gate, and 

189 



HAZELL ^ SONS. 


190 

came striding into the house without knocking. She 
met him at the parlour door, and looked at him almost 
imploringly. He put his arm round her, and drew her 
to his side. The caress was so spontaneous and so 
affectionate that involuntarily the tears started to her 
eyes. 

As we know, Herbert had not been all he should 
have been to her of late. ‘ My wifie,’ he said, with real 
tenderness. ‘ Never mind, we’ll stick together through 
thick and thin, and show them all yet what stuff we’re 
made of.’ 

She was unable to speak, but her apprehension 
vanished when he spoke to her like that. She felt that 
it would be happiness to beg her bread with him so 
long as he kept her by his side. She truly loved him 
— perhaps better than he deserved. But we will hope 
to see a man made of Herbert yet. 

‘I told the governor, and there’s been an awful row. 
He says he’ll never speak to me again. But I don’t care. 
I’ll show him I’m not the useless cad he takes me for. 
By Jove, Janie, he gave it us hot.’ 

That was all he told her. He did not say that his 
father’s ungentlemanly abuse of the girl his son had 
married had roused the latent spark of chivalry in the 
young man’s breast. If Mr. Hazell had spoken plainly, 
he had also been obliged to listen to some plain speak- 
ing, for Herbert had not his brother’s self-control, and 
could sometimes send an arrow' straight to the mark. 

‘ He says wee’ll die in the workhouse. Well, we’ll see, 
my wife,’ repeated Herbert, looking down into the 
tearful face on his shoulder. ‘ How nice you are looking ! 


HUSBAND AND WIFE, 


191 

Do you know, T believe T’m going to fall in love with 
you again on the liead of ii — eh ? ’ 

‘ I feel ever so nice. This has been such a delightful 
day. Your sister came in the morning.’ 

Herbert whistled. 

‘ Molly ! Did she though ? And how did you and 
she get on ? ’ 

' Very well. How very nice she is, Herbert ! I have 
misjudged her badly ; and she is far more beautiful than 
I thought her.’ 

‘And what did you get to say to each other? It 
must have been rather a queer meeting.’ 

‘ Oh no, it all came about naturally. She is quite a 
lady, and so she put me at my ease. I am going to try 
and be more like her, Herbert.’ 

‘ Are you ? Molly is a Tartar sometimes, too,’ 
said Herbert, wi!h a smile. ‘Well, suppose we sit 
down here and face this out. Were married, 
aren’t we ? ’ 

‘Yes, I think so.* 

* Well, we’re married, point one ; we have not a cent 
in the world, point two ; we’ve got our living to make, 
point three ; how is 'it to be done ? point four. What 
would you suggest, Janie ? ’ 

‘ I don’t know, and I don’t care,* was Janie’s very 
unpractical reply to these several questions. 

‘ Well, then, I’ve got to see about it, and I will,’ said 
Herbert, with a new and delightful decision. ‘ Shall I 
tell you what I made up my mind for coming up from 
the brewery ? * 

‘ Yes.’ 


192 


HAZELL 6r* SONS. 


'Well, in the first place, Janie, we must have another 
wedding in St. Nicholas.’ 

‘Oh!’ 

‘Yes, a right wedding, with bridesmaids and every- 
thing up to the mark. I’m going to show Medlington 
that I’m not ashamed of my wife, though I have not 
treated her very well for a while. But you’ll forgive 
me ; won’t you, Janie ? ’ 

‘ Yes, oh yes ! there’s nothing to forgive,’ cried the 
happy girl. ‘ But what has changed you so, Herbert ? 
You are quite different.’ 

‘ I’ve been a mean sneak, Janie, but I’ll tell yon all 
about it — yes, everything, by and by, when we are right 
married and away together,’ he answered, with a new 
earnestness. ‘ Do you think you could trust me now, 
Janie, after all the way I’ve done ? Do you think you 
would go away with me, and believe that I would do 
the very best for you that I could ? ’ 

‘ I’ll go to the end of the earth with you without 
asking a question if you’ll only care for me like this,’ 
cried Janie, flinging her ambition to the winds. 

‘ I’m not worth it, but I’ll show you that I can mean 
what I say as well as say what I don’t mean. Well, 
after we are married we’ll go abroad somewhere and 
start with all our might. See if I don’t make my 
fortune some day soon, and then we’ll come back and 
give Medlington a surprise.’ 

‘ And would you think of doing this soon, Herbert ? ’ 

‘ Yes, it must be done at once, dear, because, you see, 
I’m paid off, and I don’t suppose my father will let me 
stop on at home. Perhaps I’ll need to put up at Bob’s 


HUSBAND AND WIFE, 


193 


digs at Burnley. I say, Janie, before very long there’ll 
be a new sign up at the brewery, and do you know 
what’ll be on it ? — Hazell & Ford. The latter gentle- 
man is the head of the concern as it is.' 

‘ If you think so, I wonder you are both leaving. I 
wouldn’t go oft* and let that Ford get everything his own 
way,’ said Janie shrewdly. 

‘ That’s uncommon like what I’ve been thinking 
myself, but I’m not much use, even if my father would 
let me have a say in the business. The fact is, I must 
stand on my own legs now, Janie, if I’ve ever to do any 
good. That’s the mistake that’s been made with us all 
our lives. We’ve never been allowed to have the least 
responsibility in anything. It makes a young fellow 
very indifferent, and yet Bob has turned out splendidly 
in spite of it all.’ 

‘ Isn’t he very solemn and stern, Herbert ? He quite 
looks it.’ 

‘ Oh no, he’s the best fellow in the world, and, though 
he is at Burnley, will keep an eye on the brewery, I 
know. But I have not told you yet that Bob got, or 
has taken, his leave too, and that he’s going to be 
Edwardes’ cashier at Ladywell at two hundred a year. 
When the governor told me a little ago, it nearly 
stunned me.’ 

‘ Two hundred a year ! How will Miss Meredith like 
that ? ’ 

‘ She’ll like it better than the Priory and a big income 
from the brewery, as you know, and Bob has had his 
scruples for a while.’ 

‘ Well,’ said Janie, with a curious thoughtfulness, 


194 


IIAZELL 6- SONS. 


* when one comes to think of it, drink loes a lot of harm. 
Why, what a lot I could name among my acquaintances 
who have gone all wrong together ! There is something 
mean and horrid in making one’s living by it.’ 

Herbert was silent. Perhaps he had never seriously 
considered it. 

‘ And I don’t think, Herbert, that we should begin 
with it ; T mean keeping it in the house. It just bring.s 
a lot of folk about for it. I’ve often heard pa say that, 
and it’s quite true.’ 

‘As you’ll have the keeping of the house, you can 
please yourself about that matter, Janie,’ said Herbert 
lightly, and yet his eye grew grave as he spoke. He 
remembered suddenly some of Madeline Payne’s earnest 
pleading. How very often had she urged upon him the 
duty of total abstinence in the many talks they had 
had together ! 

‘And you really want another wedding?’ said Janie, 
breaking the silence, and a pleased, happy smile touched 
her lips. ‘ My, what a stir it’ll make in Medlington ! 
Do you think your folks ’ll be pleased ? ’ 

‘ Some of them won’t, but Bob will be my best man, 
I know, and Mary will come if father will let her. 
Mary and her friend ’ — 

‘ Miss Payne. You think a great deal of her, don’t 
you ? ’ asked Janie, with a slight wistfulness which was 
almost pathetic. 

‘ Think ! I’ll tell you what I think. She’s one of 
the best women that ever lived,’ said Herbert in. a low 
voice. ‘ But we won’t speak about that. I’ll tell you 
everything by and by ; but as long as we both live, 


HUSBAND AND WIFE. 


195 


Janie, we’ll never have a truer friend, nor one who’ll 
wish us better than Madeline Eayne. And nov, how 
soon can you get your finery ready ? I want you to 
look as beautiful as possible that day, you know, because 
there’ll be so many staring eyes.’ 

Again Janie’s vague discontent vanished. The very 
thought that he was proud of her, that he really wished 
her to look well, was like a draught of wine to her heart. 
So they rambled off into a talk about ways and meaus, 
and two hours slipped away before they knew where 
they were. Mr. Gregory came home to tea at six o’clock, 
and then Herbert rose to go. 

‘Just go out for a few minutes, Janie, while I speak 
to your father,’ said , Herbert, noticing the slight frown 
on Miles Gregory’s face. 

Janie was very glad to slip away, and, running into 
the kitchen, she threw her arms round her mother’s 
neck, and cried that she was the very happiest girl in 
the whole world. 

‘Well, sir?’ said Miles Gregory shortly and brusquely, 
for he was inclined to be very angry with Herbert 
Hazell, who, he considered, had played very idly with 
his daughter’s feelings. 

‘ I want to make an explanation to you, Mr. Gregory,’ 
said Herbert, with a more manly air than the tavern- 
keeper had ever seen him assume before. 

‘ Well, and it’s about time, sir, that something was 
said. There’s a deal to be said on my side at least,’ 
was his significant reply. 

‘ I have to-day told my father that I am married to 
Janie.’ 


96 


HAZELL SONS. 


‘ Quite time, too,’ was his unpromising retort. 

‘ He was, as I expected, frightfully angry, and he has, 
if I may so put it, given me notice to quit his employ- 
ment.’ 

‘Very kind of him. And what are you going to do 
now ? ’ 

‘ That is what I wish to speak about, Mr. Gregory. 
I ask your pardon for the way in which I have treated 
your daughter, and I assure you I intend to show by 
my actions the sincerity of my regret for the past.’ 

‘ Fair words, young man ; but what do they mean ? * 
said Miles Gregory cautiously. It is probable that he 
feared some demand on his purse. Eemember his past 
experience of Herbert Hazell. He had not had occasion 
to form a very high estimate of his character, and could 
hardly be expected to give him credit for the best motives 
on immediate notice. 

‘I have had a long talk with Janie. With your 
permission and Mrs. Gregory’s, we should like to be 
re-married in St. Nicholas’ Church, before the eyes of all 
Medlington.* 

‘ Oh ! ’ 

Mr. Gregory was very much surprised. 

‘ Is this to spite the old un ? ’ he asked, with an 
unpleasant twinkle in his eye. 

Herbert winced. 

‘ Not quite. I wish to atone to Janie for what I did 
before. She shall have her dues now if she will take 
them.’ 

‘ And after, what are you going to live on ? ’ 

‘ We intend to go abroad.’ 


/ 


HUSBAND AND WJFE, 


197 


Mr. Gregory looked askance. 

* I don’t approve of that. She’s all we’ve got ; and, 
besides, what guarantee would her mother or me have that 
you would have a good way for her ? She’s been well 
brought up. She can’t rough it, and she won’t. There ! ’ 

‘ She’s my wife, Mr. Gregory,’ said Herbert, drawing 
himself up a litile, for the man’s tone was very offen- 
sive. ‘ If she is willing to trust me, nobody can come 
between us, sir.’ 

Gregory was more amazed than ever. Hitherto 
young Hazell had been very pliable. He had rather 
despised him ; but there was more in him than had yet 
been revealed. 

‘ Heigh ho ! So we’re going to ride our high horse 
now, are we ? ’ he said jestingly. ‘ Well, I’ll not say 
but what I like the style of your talk better than I’ve 
ever liked anything I’ve heard you say before. It shows 
you mean to stand up for the girl. That being so, I’m 
quite open to reason, and I’ll help you all I can. What’s 
the use of the money we’ve gathered if it wasn’t for to 
make our only child happy. But I set my foot firm 
on Janie going abroad. You may if you like, but she 
won’t.’ 

Herbert smiled a little. Perhaps he knew that 
nothing in the world would make Janie stay behind. 
But he did not say so. 

‘ I’ll tell you what I’ll do, though,’ said Gregory pre- 
sently. *I’ll keep my eyes open, and when there’s a 
tidy little business in the spirit line for sale I’ll stump 
up. You can pay all back when the profits increase. 
There’s money in the business, Hazell, as you know.’ 


198 


HAZELL <5r* SONS. 


Herbert was silent a moment, not knowing what to 
say. 

‘ Just look at Butterby at the Bell Inn. He’s worth 
five or six thousand if he’s worth a penny,’ continued 
Miles Gregory, rubbing his hands together. ‘ And I 
suppose I don’t need to say anything to you about the 
tidy sum her ladyship up at Mount Pleasant pockets 
every year out of the “ Base- Ball ” ? 

‘ I wouldn’t keep a place like the “ Base-Ball,” not if 
it gave me thousands in return,’ cried Herbert hotly. 

‘ Oh, indeed ! mighty fine ! It’s not so long since 
you thought the “ Base - Ball ” a pretty snug corner. 
Pray, what vjould you deign to do for a living, since an 
honest trade’s beneath you ? It’s only another branch 
of the trade which keeps up Hazelwood and all its pride 
and style, and if there is anything mean or bad in it, 
why, the brewery ’ll get the hardest judgment, because 
it’s the biggest concern. I’m bound to say that as 
many mother’s sons have gone off the straight through 
Hazell’s as at the “ Base-Ball.” Is it going to be all 
talk with you, then, as it has always been, since the 
first time we set eyes on you ? What I wish is that 
you’d never set eyes on our gel. She’d have done a 
thousand times better if you’d let her alone.’ 

‘ I see there is no use talking to you just now, Mr. 
Gregory, so I’ll go away home, and see what’s to be 
done. I’ll look down to-morrow, and perhaps we’ll be 
able to understand each other better, so good-night.’ 



CHAPTEK XIX. 

A CRISIS. 


ARY HAZELL was sitting in the library 
window, idle, with her eyes fixed on the 
autumn-coloured trees in the park, and the 
sad sky visible through the thinning boughs. 
It was the month of October, and the year was on the 
wane. An open letter, written on sheets of foreign 
notepaper, lay upon her lap. She had read it through, 
and she was thinking over what it contained. Her 
face was paler and thinner than of yore; the past 
summer had been one of deep anxiety and harassing 
care for Mary Hazell. Her expression at that moment, 
however, was bright, for the contents of her Australian 
letter had pleased her well. It was a good thing to 
read of otliers’ prosperity and bright happiness when 
her own heart was so heavy. The shadows were 
gathering very daikly round Hazelwood, and the night 
was closing in. 

The cliiming of the clock warned her that the dinner 
hour was approaching, so, gathering up her letter, she 
left the room, and proceeded up-stairs. She looked into 

199 



200 


HAZELL ^ SONS. 


the drawing-room, expecting to find Madeline there, but 
it was empty. Opening the door of Mrs. Hazell’s 
dressing-room, she found both ladies sitting by the fire. . 
Mrs. Hazell was in her easy chair, looking very frail ; 
Madeline Eayne, still an inmate, nay, now like a dear 
daughter of the house, had been reading aloud, but the 
light had stolen away from the room, already the 
shadows of an early twilight were falling about them 
where they sat. 

‘ Come in, dear. We were wondering, Lena and I, 
where you had flown,’ said Mrs. Hazell, looking round 
with her sweet, kind, patient smile. But for these two 
girls Eleanor Hazell’s life had been one of curious trial. 
But there was love, and trust, and sweet companionship 
always between these three. 

‘ I am very selfish. Instead of bringing Bertie’s long 
letter up here, I stole away to the library to enjoy it 
all by myself,’ said Mary brightly. ‘ We have half an 
hour to talk about it here. He writes in such splendid 
spirits, dear boy.’ 

‘ I forgot this was the mail day,’ said Mrs. Hazell. 

* And they are getting on very nicely still, are they ? ’ 

‘ Yes, mamma. Your cousin has raised Herbert’s 
salary fifty pounds, and as a consequence he has bought 
Janie a new piano. It is delightful to read their letter. 
They are so happy and proud of each other. Who 
would ever have thought it was our ne’er-do-weel turn- 
ing into such a splendid fellow ? Lena, here is your 
little bit marked private, but I am not going to be in 
the least bit jealous.’ 

As she spoke she handed Madeline the tiny square 


A C 2^ ISIS. 


201 


envelope which hiJ been enclosed in hers. Madeline 
smiled and slipped it into her pocket. She would read 
it by and by. 

‘ Bertie says he never was so well off nor so happy 
in his life, mamma,’ said Mary presently. ‘ He also 
says Janie is a trump, and the best wife any man ever 
had. To think that they are so much to each other, 
and doing so well in Victoria I Isn’t it delightful, dear 
mamma ? ’ 

*It is indeed,’ returned Mrs. Hazell, and her eyes 
filled with tears. 

‘ He cannot write sufficiently about Mr. Latrobe’s 
kindness. He could not have got on so fast, nor so 
well, had he not had your introduction. Altogether, 
circumstances have made a man of our Bertie.’ 

‘ I wonder if papa would let me read this letter to 
him,’ said Mary after a moment’s silence. ‘ I mean to 
speak to him about the boys this very night. Mamma, 
I am just dying to see Bob and Lucy. I am going to 
tell papa to-night that I am going over to Burnley 
to-morrow.’ 

‘ My dear, he will be very angry,’ said Mrs. Hazell 
timidly, and her face flushed with nervousness. 

Mary laid down Herbert’s letter and came nearer 
Mrs. Hazell’s chair. Her face was flushed a little, too, 
but her mouth was very resolute. 

‘ Mamma, I have been thinking a great deal about 
things lately, and praying over them too,’ she said, with 
a little sob in her voice. ‘ And I do think that we give 
in far too much to papa. It cannot be right to be so 
obedient, when one’s conscience tells one what is right. 

14 


202 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


Eobert has done no harm ; he has always been the best 
son ever any man had. And, mamma, it is not papa’s 
real self who is so tyrannical and angry with us. It is 
the evil influence which is always bearing on him that 
we have to deal with, and I have made up my mind 
that I am not going to stand by in silence any more. 
Listen, mamma and Lena : I am going to fight now, and 
I mean to be the victor.* 

She smiled then, but it was a melancholy and 
tremulous smile, from which tears were not far 
removed. 

‘ Oh, my darling, we have had a great deal of 
fighting already,’ said Mrs. Hazell quickly. ‘ What if 
your father were to put you away too. He made very 
short work of the boys.’ 

‘Yes, but he’ll find me a tougher subject to deal 
with,’ said Mary grimly. ‘ There is one human being 
in the world with whom I would like to be even before 
I die, and I’m going to begin my campaign to-night. 
It is perfectly awful to me to stand by and see papa 
becoming such a wreck. I am going to save him if 
I can.’ 

There was something noble and sweet in Mary’s 
whole bearing as she said this. She stood up, held 
back her dainty head, and her eyes flashed. Her 
listeners knew right well what she meant, and an 
admiring gleam shone in the eyes of Madeline Eayne. 
She had waited in hope for this awakening. Mary 
alone could save Hazelwood. Perhaps the time had 
now come. 

‘ Something must be done, and that soon,’ said Mary, 


A CRISIS. 


203 


speaking more quickly, but with equal decision. ‘ The 
feeling among the people has reached a terrible height. 
I am afraid to go to the Eows now. We shall have a 
strike soon, or something worse. I could not blame 
them, they are so terribly oppressed.* 

‘ I have wondered,* said Madeline, speaking for the 
first time, ‘ that it is safe for the manager to go abroad. 
They hate him so much that it is a marvel they have 
done him no harm.* 

‘ He may go a step beyond,’ said Mary, and her fair 
face flushed. ‘ There will come a day when Medlington 
will not be a safe place for Mr. Michael Ford.* 

At that moment a servant knocked at the door. 

‘ The master has come in, Miss Mary, and wishes to 
speak to you,* she said. 

Mary smiled, and bent over Mrs. Hazell’s chair. 

‘ Keep up your courage, dear mamma. I feel as if 
this crisis were nearly past. Brighter days are in 
store, I am sure, for Hazelwood, and for us all.’ 

So saying, she left the room. 

" Dear, bright, brave Mary ! ’ said Mrs. Hazell, when 
the door closed upon her. ‘ Oh, Lena, if her father 
should sacrifice her would it not be a cruel shame ? * 

‘ Sacrifice her ! Do not fear, dear Mrs. Hazell,’ said 
Madeline cheerfully. ‘ Mary will never sacrifice herself 
to Michael Ford.* 

‘ Oh, this cruel drink ! * sighed Mrs. Hazell. ‘ It has 
utterly ruined Mr. Hazell. Don’t you remember, Lena, 
even when you came to us first, what a clear intellect 
and strong, sound judgment he had. He is terribly 
changed. I hope we are not too hard on that man. 


204 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


Mr. Hazell constantly tells me how invaluable he is 
to him, but I do suspect sometimes that Mr. Ford 
encourages him in his secret sin. Mr. Hazell drinks 
at the office now, Lena, and we cannot keep it from 
him there ! ’ 

It had come to this, then. Mr. Hazell’s fall was 
discussed by the women of his household as an 
established fact. It was, alas ! no longer a secret. 

‘ It is nearly six, Mrs. Hazell ; dinner will be served 
immediately,’ said Madeline, after a moment’s silence. 
She had nothing to say in reply to the suspicioii 
uttered by the anxious wife. She knew it was only 
too well founded. ‘Will you come down to-night?’ 
she added, looking affectionately at her pale, sad face. 

‘ I think not. I am very tired. But never mind me. 
Kun and get ready. Mr. Hazell does not like to wait.’ 

‘ He never has to wait for me. Mary is the 
delinquent,’ laughed Madeline, as she left the room. 
She took her letter from her pocket, and, creeping to a 
little corner window in the corridor, sat down on the 
broad ledge to read it by the last feeble light from the 
yellow west. It was very short, but it brought a very 
sweet and tender smile to her lips as she read it. 

‘ Dear Madeline,’ it began, in Herbert’s clear, bold 
handwriting, ‘ you will be hearing the good news from 
Mary, but Janie and I feel that we would like to write 
one little line just to tell you how happy we are, and 
how we bless God for His goodness to us. When I 
look back, Madeline, I am amazed that so much good- 
ness and mercy should have followed me here. Janie 


A CRISIS. 


205 


and I have long talks now, and I have told her how 
you used to speak to me, my first, best friend. It was 
you (and Janie knows and loves you for it) who first 
awakened in me the desire to live a better life. I 
think you will be glad to know that I have remembered 
every word you ever said to me, and that I am trying, 
as you so often urged me, to make a man of myself. I 
could write a great deal more, but Janie (bless her ! the 
dearest wife in the world) is at my elbow, and she says 
I am using up all the paper before she has written a 
single word. So the next sentence will be hers.’ 

‘ Dear Miss Rayne, — I have read what Herbert 
says, and I only want to add that every word is in my 
heart too. I thank you over and over for what you 
did for him. It was after you came to Hazelwood he 
began to change. He is so kind and good to me, and 
makes me so happy. I fear I am not so good a wife 
as he says, though it is very sweet to know he thinks I 
am. But I do try, dear Miss Bayne, to be a good 
woman. I am so grateful for the happiness I have in 
my home. God bless you. Some day, perhaps, you 
will come here and see us. Oh, what a day that would 
be for Herbert and me ! — Your true friend, 

‘ Jane Hazell.’ 

So that was Madeline Bayne’s reward, and it sent 
her to her own room with a song in her heart. 

Meanwhile, a very different scene was being enacted 
in the library. 

Mary found her father there, walking up and down 
in that nervous, excited way which had characterized 


2o6 


HAZELL SONS, 


him of late. Yes, the master of Hazelwood was much 
changed. He had grown very stout, but the vigour of 
health had left him. His eyes were bleared and dim, 
his mouth had an unsteady twitching, his hands 
trembled, even while he made an effort to keep them 
still. Two years’ continuous secret drinking had left 
its mark on the master of Hazelwood. Mary saw at 
once that he was more excited than usual, and a curious 
calmness took possession of her. 

‘ Well, papa,’ she said cheerfully, * what is it ? 
Could it wait till after dinner ? It is close on six 
o’clock.’ 

‘ No, it can’t wait — dinner can. Ford is coming up. 
I hope you have something decent to set before him,’ 
said Mr. Hazell irritably. 

‘ Shall I tell you what I ordered ? ’ asked Mary 
banteringly. ‘ Kidney-soup, beefsteak pie, and mutton- 
cutlets, cabinet pudding and apple tart. I believe that 
is our bill of fare for to-day.’ 

She spoke lightly to hide her deep, almost painful 
anxiety. She felt that a crisis was indeed at hand. 

‘ Humph ! it’ll need to do, I suppose,’ said Mr. Hazell. 
Then he fixed his unsteady eyes keenly on his daughter’s 
sweet, flushed face. ‘ You’d better put a silk gown on. 
I suppose you have one.’ 

‘ Yes, I have two ; but I shall not put on either 
to-night, papa,’ said Mary. ‘ If Mr. Ford doesn’t like 
to sit down with us as we are, he can just go away 
home. I don’t suppose he is accustomed to dine every 
evening in full dress.’ 

Mr. Hazell frowned. 


A CRISIS. 


207 


‘ You have never been civil to Michael Ford, Mary, 
though I have repeatedly enjoined you to be attentive 
to him. He has been invaluable to me, and I have 
now in a measure rewarded him. I have signed a deed 
of co-partnery with Mr. Ford to-day, Mary, so you will 
please to remember that it is my partner you are to 
entertain.' 

Mary curled her lip, but spoke not a word. She 
was afraid to trust her voice lest she should say some- 
thing unbecoming to her father. 

* I had better go and tell mamma and Lena to dress 
also then, papa, and tell the cook to keep dinner back 
half an hour. Will that do ? ' 

* Yes. Is your mother coming down to-night ? ' 

‘ Not to the dining-room ; Mr. Ford will see her up- 
stairs,' said Mary, beginning to move towards the door. 

* Wait a moment,' said Mr. Hazell, with a visible 
increase of nervousness ; * there is another thing I want 
to speak to you about. Of course, you know well 
enough it is you Ford comes here to see ? ' 

‘ I have not given it a thought,' said Mary, with her 
hand on the door. 

‘ Well, you’ll need to think about it now. He has 
asked and obtained my permission to pay his addresses 
to you, and I beg of you to be sensible about it. You’ll 
never get a better husband, nor one more devoted, than 
him. In fact, he thinks far too much of you. 

Again Mary’s lip curled in matchless scorn. 

* Do I understand you to say, papa, that Mr. Ford 
intends asking me to marry him, and that you wish me 
to accept him ? ' 


2o8 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


‘ Yes ; and why not ? Where would you get a 
better ? ’ 

* I won’t do it,’ said Mary quite quietly, but with 
unmistakable decision. 

‘ You won’t ! But you must ! Ford’s my partner, 
and a most worthy — in fact, a splendid — fellow ! You 
don’t know what you’re doing, girl. Why, you’re 
nearly five-and-twenty, and you’ve never had an offer.’ 

* I don’t mind though I were five-and-fifty, papa,’ 
said Mary, with a swift, indignant smile. ‘ If there is 
a man in the world I despise and detest, it is Michael 
Ford ; and very well he knows it. I don’t think he 
can have forgotten what I said to him two years ago 
on the road from Medlington. I remember it, at any 
rate, and it will save trouble, papa, if you tell him that 
my sentiments are unchanged.’ 

Mr. Hazell’s face grew purple with anger. 

‘ You’re a fool, girl, and you don't know what you’re 
doing,’ he said hoarsely. ^ You must marry Ford ; 
there’s no other way out of it. I can’t do without him. 
I’ve offered him money, and I thought that this partner- 
ship would satisfy him ; but it’s you he wants, and you 
must have him.’ 

* Kefer him to me, papa,’ said Mary in cold, calm 
tones, * and I’ll let him have the benefit of a few plain 
truths.’ 

‘ If you do — if you dare,’ cried Mr. Hazell hoarsely, 
‘ I — I don’t know what he’ll do ! He has the power to 
ruin us, I believe ! He’s got everything into his 
hands since the boys left here, and he can do what he 
likes with the whole concern.’ 


A CRISIS. 


209 


It was a pitiable confession, and Mary, even in her 
horror and indignation, could not but be touched by her 
father’s appearance. He had aged of late, and had 
grown very helpless. 

‘ I haven’t the head I used to have for business, 
Mary, and I don’t understand things as I should. But 
I know Ford is invaluable. He has made the thing 
pay. Of course he has pocketed a big share, but he 
deserved it. I believe if we were to quarrel with him 
he’d make the thing a smash, and I shouldn’t have a 
penny left. He’s that kind of man, Mary. I believe 
it would be to our advantage to keep him right. Could 
you try and tolerate him ? He’s afraid of you, I know. 
You might make him a better fellow, and keep the 
thing all right, and it isn’t much I’m asking you to do 
for me.’ 

Mary shivered. Hot much ? Only to sacrifice her- 
self to a man she loathed and despised. Perhaps to 
the distorted vision of Mr. Hazell that seemed a very 
little thing, but to Mary it was awful indeed. 

She covered her face with her hands, and uttered a 
low, passionate cry. 

‘ Oh, papa, papa ! why did you drive the boys away, 
and let that evil man gain such an influence over you. 
I will go to Eobert. He is wise, and kind, and good. 
He will put this evil man in his right place. I shall 
go this very night’ 

But Mr. Hazell only mournfully and hopelessly 
shook his grey head, and wrung his nerveless hands as 
if he had neither heart nor strength to fight against his 
fata. 



CHAPTEK XX. 

DEFIED. 


!HAEL FOED came whistling up the avenue 
to Hazelwood in the grey dusk of that 
October night. He was in a very com- 
placent mood — well satisfied with himself, 
as he might be. He had done a good stroke of busi- 
ness in his own interests at the brewery that day. But 
one thing remained uncertain, and unless he could make 
himself of some account in the eyes of his master’s — 
nay, his partner’s — daughter, all the rest would be but 
as Dead Sea fruit. He congratulated himself on his 
success as the twinkling lights of Hazelwood came in 
sight. It was not so many years since he had entered 
tlie brewery a nameless servant at a small wage, and 
what had he done in these years ? Driven both the 
sons from the house — for in an insidious and scarcely 
discernible fashion he had poisoned the old man’s mind, 
flattered his weaknesses, given him encouragement in 
his besetting sin, and, by slow but sure degi’ees, made 
himself indispensable to him. And now there was a 
round sum in the Bradford Bank to the credit of 



DEFIED, 


2II 


Michael Ford, and the Hazell brewery was practically 
in his hands. Such was his work : perhaps he had 
reason to be proud of it. And yet he still wore the 
garb of that mock humility which is the devil’s darling 
sin. In spite of his undoubted success, he did not hold 
up his head before his fellow-men with the assurance 
which an upright life and honourable business trans- 
actions can give. There was nothing honourable about 
Michael Ford. He was a sneak, and yet he dared to 
lift his eyes to Mary Hazell. Did he think her proud, 
pure soul could find any affinity in his ? Mr. Ford was 
not only complacent and self-satisfied, he was also vain. 
His diminutive figure was attired in evening dress, he 
had diamond studs in his shirt-front, and a handsome 
ring on his finger. He was a dandy, but not manly in 
his appearance. 

It was twenty minutes past six when he entered the 
house.' The servant, concealing her dislike of him, 
politely waited until he had removed his overcoat, and 
then showed him up to a dressing-room to change his 
boots. He did not take long to make ready, and, with 
that familiar freedom which aggravated every servant 
in the house, sought his own way to the drawing- 
room. He flourished a dainty pink silk handkerchief 
on the landing, and filled the corridors with choice 
perfume. He had omitted none of the accessories of 
the dandy’s toilet. 

The drawing-room was empty, for the ladies had not 
hurried over their dressing. Mr. Hazell was the first 
to enter. Out of deference to his guest, he had made a 
more elaborate toilet than usual, but he looked ill and 


212 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


out of sorts. His interview with Mary had not been 
very satisfactory. She was not at all pliable, but pos- 
sessed very decided opinions of her own. 

‘ Well, have you got up ? * said the brewer, with a 
feeble smile. * Sit down. The ladies will be here 
presently.’ 

‘All well, I hope V said Mr. Ford blandly. 

‘As usual, thank you. Mrs. Hazell is not strong. 
Well, I have spoken to my daughter, and prepared her 
for what is coming.’ 

‘ Ah ! ’ Mr. Ford’s interest suddenly increased, and 
he looked rather anxiously into his partner s face. 

Mr. Hazell shook his head. 

‘ I can’t give you much encouragement, I fear,’ he 
said, and one might almost have thought he had a 
certain pride in saying it. 

‘My daughter has a proud spirit. In cases like 
these no third person can do much good. But she 
knows you have my permission to address her, and 
she also knows my wishes on the matter. But you 
must do the rest; you must make the best of your 
opportunities.’ 

‘ I hope I shall have an opportunity of speaking 
to Miss Hazell alone, then,’ said Mr. Ford rather 
snappishly. ‘ Miss Bayne sticks to her like a burr, 
and it’s not likely that I’m going to make a fool of 
myself before two of ’em.’ 

His tone was even more offensive than his words. 
Though Mr. Hazell’s senses were already partially dazed 
by his potations, he felt a strong desire to kick the man 
down-stairs. Had he put that desire into execution 


DEFIED. 


213 


long before, it would have been better for Hazelwood 
that day. 

‘ I shall see that you have opportunity, but I am not 
responsible, as I told you, for what my daughter may 
say to you. I have laid my commands upon her, but 
she is not obedient, and she is quite of age.’ 

The door opened, and Maiy entered. Her face was 
very pale, but exquisitely beautiful. She had made a 
careful toilet — a black lace gown set off by bows of 
bright ribbons became her rarely well. The bodice was 
open a little at the throat, revealing its sweet white 
contour, a bunch of bright ash berries and autumn 
leaves making the face shine almost dazzling in its 
whiteness. A handsome, aristocratic-looking girl be- 
yond a doubt was Mary Hazell ; and it could not be said 
that her manners were not touched with aristocratic 
repose. Her greeting to Michael Ford was as cold as 
ice. 

Madeline followed in a few moments, and dinner 
was announced. Mary had, of course, to go down-stairs 
on the arm of her father’s partner, but her white fingers 
scarcely touched his sleeve. Had she obeyed her own 
desire, she would have gathered up her skirts lest they 
should come in contact with the immaculate dress suit. 

Conversation at table was a little strained ; Madeline, 
however, with her usual tact, threw herself into the 
breach, and tried to thaw the cold atmosphere. Unfor- 
tunately for the peace of the host, the talk turned at 
dessert upon the work-people and their needs. Mary 
made some remark upon the vexed question of the 
drainage at the Eows. There had been a prevalence of 


214 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


low fever in the late autumn in that marshy part of the 
town. 

‘ I’m going to make a change there soon/ said Mr. 
Michael Ford, as he cracked his walnuts with the palms 
of his hands, though Mary had taken the trouble to 
place the crackers very pointedly before him. ‘ They’ve 
just about w'orn me out with their grumbling. If I 
don’t raise the rents on every mother’s son of them 
before Michaelmas, 111 know the reason why.’ 

‘They won’t pay it/ said Mary quietly, though her 
eyes glowed. ‘ The rents are far too high already. Do 
you mean to say that house of Becker’s is worth eight 
pounds ? Eight shillings is more like it. I don’t 
wonder they are discontented. Just look at the 
cottages the spinners ^have built for their people at 
a uniform rent of five pounds. They are palaces in 
comparison with ours/ 

‘ Excuse me. Miss Mary, but you’re carried away on 
this question. You must remember that Coxon’s folks’ 
wages are a third less than ours. It comes to the 
same thing in the long-run. But the Bows have always 
been a hot-bed of rebellion and grumbling. But I’ll 
promise you I’ll stamp it out/ 

‘ What will you do ? ’ 

Mary leaned a little forward. It was a wonder 
Michael Ford did not quail beneath that look. But he 
had a splendid opportunity for showing the magnitude 
of his own power. To hear him speak, one might have 
thought him the absolute head of the concern, and 
the old man sitting meekly at his own table a poor 
subordinate. 


DEFIED, 


215 


*111 raise the rents and lower the pay, and those 
who don’t like the new rule can quit. I can easily 
draft a lot of men from the north. Thatll set them on 
their legs/ 

‘ Surely you won’t take such strong measures, 
Michael,’ said Mr. Hazell mildly, as he replenished 
his glass. 

Mary looked at him suddenly, and made a movement 
with her hand towards the decanter. But for Mr. 
Ford’s presence she would have lifted it from the 
table; but she would not seem to notice her father’s 
infirmity before Ford. 

‘ They’ve had mild measures too long, it strikes me,’ 
said Mr. Ford gruffly. 

Mary’s face grew crimson, and she rose from the table. 

‘ You need not be in such haste, Mary. Mr. Ford 
and I are not nearly done,’ said Mr. Hazell irritably, 
yet with a certain deprecating look towards his partner. 

* It is half- past seven, papa. We have been an hour 
at table. I must go and see whether mamma has had 
her coffee.’ 

Mr. Hazell rose and opened the door for the ladies. 
Mr. Ford apparently did not know what courtesy de- 
manded, and sat still crunching his walnuts rather 
savagely. Certainly Mary did not give him much 
encouragement. 

‘ Whatever papa may say, or that creature think, I 
shall not come to the drawing-room to-night, Lena,’ 
said Mary indignantly, as they went up-stairs. 

‘ Mary, if he has anything to say to you, it might be 
as well to have it said. I think a talking to him from 


2I6 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


you would do him good. It makes me indignant to 
hear and see his rudeness to Mr. Hazell/ said Lena a 
little sadly. 

Mary said nothing, but her eyes shone. Contrary to 
her expressed intention, she entered the drawing-room, 
and Lena, inferring that she had taken a second thought 
about the matter, silently kissed her, and went away to 
Mrs. Hazell’s room. 

The gas was not lighted in the drawing-room, but the 
wood fire was blazing and crackling merrily on the wide 
hearth, casting a radiant glow over all the pretty room. 

Mary leaned her bare arm on the cold mantelshelf, 
and dashed away a few angry tears. She felt bitterly 
humiliated that the man down-stairs should dare to 
regard her as a possible object for his odious affections. 
I fear Mary’s usual sweet charity was lacking in her 
judgment of Michael Ford. To her he was perfectly 
unendurable. 

She could hear the sound of the voices ascending 
from the dining-room, and something told her they 
were talking of her. Bargaining for her, likely, she 
told herself, with a little stamp of her dainty foot. 
Poor Mary, these were trying times for her, and she 
felt very helpless — almost as if the meshes of a web 
had closed about her, making her escape impossible. 
But she could not, would not face even the possibility 
of being obliged to think seriously of any proposal made 
by the man down-stairs. 

She did not know how long she had been standing 
thinking bitterly of the present and the future, and 
regretfully of the past, but it seemed a long, long time. 


DEFIED. 


217 


At length, however, she heard the dining-room door 
open, and then she gave the bell an angry pull. She 
wanted lights in the room before they should come up. 
The subdued, pleasant glow of the firelight is only 
desirable to talk by when we are with those we love. 
The maid entered first, and with deft fingers drew blind 
and curtains close, and lit the candles on the mantel 
and on the piano. 

* Light the chandelier, Kitty. Yes, every jet,' said 
Miss Hazell quickly, and the girl obeyed, somewhat 
puzzled. The gas was very seldom lighted at all in 
the Hazelwood drawing-room, the ladies preferring the 
soft effects of candles and shaded lamps. 

So the gentlemen entered the room in a blaze of 
light. No sooner did Mr. Hazell observe Mary alone 
than he turned about quietly and slipped away down- 
stairs, rather shamefacedly, it must be told, for Mary’s 
sake, but he had promised Michael Ford his opportunity. 

‘This is nice,’ said Mr. Ford, advancing into the 
room and cheerfully rubbing his hands together, ‘ I 
like this. Plenty of light and brightness is the thing 
for me. But all these jets will run up a pretty little 
gas bill ; eh. Miss Mary ? ’ 

He spoke affably and familiarly, for a judicious 
amount of champagne had mellowed his temper and 
unloosened his tongue. 

Mary turned round, but did not remove her arm 
from the mantel. It was bare to the elbow. Mr. 
Ford’s eyes plainly admired its perfect contour, so she 
quickly lowered it and clasped her hands before her 
But she never spoke a word. 

15 


2I8 


HAZELL ^ SONS, 


* Won't you sit down, Miss Mary ? ' he said, then 
beginning to wheel a low chair towards her. 

* No, thank you. Miss llayne will be here presently, 
and we shall have some music,' said Mary purposely. 
If there was anything to be said, the sooner it was over 
the better. She had wrought herself up to a pitch, and 
Mr. Ford was about to have some very plain things 
said to him. 

He saw his opportunity, and had no intention of 
allowing it to slip. ‘ I hope they won’t be in a hurry. 
It’s not often I have the chance of a few words with 
you,’ he said, looking meaningly at her. Her colour rose. 
It was not easy for her to listen and keep silence. 

* I suppose your father has told you what I mean by 
coming so often here,* he continued, after a brief pause, 
‘ though, of course, you knew well enough yourself. 
Don’t you think I’ve been patient, and plucky as well ? 
I haven’t forgotten the rebuff you gave me two years 
ago. It was pretty hard on me, though I admired 
your spirit too ; but, of course, I’m here on a difierent 
footing now.' 

‘ I suppose so,' said Mary drily. ‘ I must congratulate 
you on the change in your prospects and position.’ 

* So he has told you, has he ?’ said Mr. Ford easily, 
and, leaning against the table, he slipped his hands 
unconcernedly into his pockets. ‘ Yes, it’s pretty fair 
for me, isn’t it ? but 111 defy any man to say I haven’t 
earned it. Why, I’ve toiled in the interests of the firm 
night and day. I deserve my reward.* 

‘ Yes ! ’ said Mary, with a fine indifference. She had 
taken the cluster of berries from her corsage and was 


DEFIED, 


219 


picking them off one by one and throwing them into 
the fire. 

‘ But as the wliole thing is to remain in the family, 
as it were,’ said Mr. Ford, making a bold stroke with 
apparent coolness, though he kept his eye rather 
nervously on the face of the woman before him. ‘ The 
Priory is always in the market still. I’ve put in an 
offer for it. It would make a nice home, Miss Mary.’ 

‘ It is a beautiful place,’ Mary answered quietly. 

* Yes ; I’ve put in an offer for it,’ said Mr. Ford, 
drawing himself up with a conscious pride. ‘ But a man 
can’t live in a house like that himself. It needs a 
mistress. Are you to be the mistiess. Miss Mary ? ’ 

Mary picked off the last berry with a little jerk and 
threw it into the fire. Her colour was high enough 
now, as red as the glowing heat of the fire. 

‘It’ll all fit in beautiful. Miss Mary,’ continued Mr. 
Ford, encouraged by her silence and her downcast eyes. 
‘ It’s quite the thing, you know, for the junior partner 
to marry the senior’s daughter. You’re going to give 
me a different answer now. Miss Mary, I see, and I’m 
glad of it, because the other way things would be con- 
foundedly uncomfortable all round.* 

‘ Would they ? And why ? * 

Nothing could be more matchless than the quiet 
scorn in Mary Hazell’s fine eyes as she flashed them on 
her suitor’s face. 

‘Oh, just, you know, the way I’m situated. The 
thing couldn’t go on without me now.’ 

‘ It went on, as you term it, before you came, and we 
were ten thousand times happier,’ said Mary, her passion 


220 


HAZELL (Sr' SONS. 


rising. ‘ It is my hope and prayer that we will yet be 
rid of your evil influence, Michael Ford. Are you 
waiting for your answer ? You shall have it. This is 
the last time you shall have an opportunity of insulting 
me. I know you have my poor father so far in your 
power, but that, too, will come to an end. I wish you 
a very good evening, Mr. Ford.* 

‘ Oh, that’s how it’s to be, my lady, is it ? * said Mr. 
Ford, rapidly changing his tone, and darkening his 
brow with a scowl. ‘ Very well : we’ll see. Do you 
know, I have it in my power to ruin the old man, and 
bring Hazelwood to the hammer. There isn’t a penny 
in the concern I can’t lay my finger on ; and T will, to 
pay you out for the way you’ve tramped on me. You’re 
looking at me now as if I were the dirt beneath your 
feet, but I’ll humble you yet.* 

‘ Do your worst,’ said Mary, and a sweet, cold smile 
dawned on her face. ‘ There is justice and mercy in 
Heaven. I am only a poor weak girl, but I defy you, 
Mr. Michael Ford. If you have robbed us of our all, it 
will bring you no blessing, but a curse. So now you 
know my opinion of you. There has been no day 
within the last two years, since you drove my brothers 
from home, when I have not longed to tell you what I 
felt towards you. I have told you now, and I’ll sleep 
the sounder for it to-night.’ 

He had no opportunity to reply to these scathing 
words, spoken with a haughty and contemptuous 
demeanour, which gave them a double sting. 

Such was the final issue of the wooing of Michael 
Ford. 



CHAPTEK XXL 

FANNING THE FIRK 


HEEE seemed to be a kind of excitement 
abroad in Paradise Eow and Back Eow. It 
was a cold, hard night, and there was a high 
north wind blowing. Some ominous black 
clouds were scudding across the sky, and seemed to give 
a promise of snow. Winter was to fall early that year 
by all indications ; every leaf was stripped from the 
trees, a most unusual thing so early in November. That 
day was the fifth of the month, the Guy Fawkes Day, 
dear to the heart of every schoolboy. It was pitch 
dark. There was no moon, and the stars were few. 
But the folks at the Bows could make light for them- 
selves, for there was a bonfire lit in the ground attached 
to the school, and on the window-sills there were 
fastened some rude lamps of wick dipped in naphtha, 
which made a flare in the darkness. There were people 
hurrying about the place, and, of course, a ring of 
excited children gathered round the bonfire, which was 
being replenished constantly with all sorts of combus- 
tible stuff. Had Mr. Hazell or his manager been on the 
221 



222 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


spot, tliey would have been amazed and horrified. It 
was the woodwork of the outhouses pertaining to the 
dwellings at the Eows which was being pulled down to 
keep up a merry blaze. 

When eight o’clock came pealing from the town 
clock, the scattered folks began to gather in the school 
enclosure. Near the door there were two huge up- 
turned boxes, which made a kind of platform, and about 
which the folks thronged most. 

There was a meeting in contemplation evidently, and 
eight o’clock seemed to be the hour at which the 
proceedings were to commence. 

While they waited, presumably, for the speakers, a 
constant hum of talk was kept up. There were angry 
voices heard occasionally, and all faces wore a kind of 
reckless look. Perhaps they were about to take the 
law into their own hands at the Eows. 

The women were all out, some with infants wrapped 
in shawls, and little things scarcely able to walk cling- 
ing to their skirts. It was a woman’s question as much 
as a man’s that was to be discussed that night, — a 
question affecting fire, food, and clothing; in a word, 
the question of existence was to be looked into. Exist- 
ence had of late become a hard matter for the employees 
at Hazell & Ford’s. 

The men were all in their working garb, so were the 
leaders, or speakers, who came forward presently and 
got up on the box. There were three of them, Jem 
Pecker, Joe Tufnell, and Tim Pilkins. Becker was the 
ringleader, and the prime agitator in this movement. 
Perhaps, as the father of twelve, he found existence a 
degree harder than the majority. Susan, eager-eyed, 


FANNING THE FIRE, 


223 


pinched, and hollow-cheeked, with the inevitable baby 
at her breast, was in the very forefront of the crowd. 
The flickering light from the naphtha lamps shining on 
her haggard face gave her a strange, wild look. Alto- 
gether, it was a strange, wild scene, which might well 
have puzzled any uninitiated onlooker. ‘ Go on, Becker,’ 
cried one or two voices from the crowd, growing impa- 
tient for the proceedings to commence. ‘Go on, Jemmy, 
an’ give it ’em ’ot, specially the black ’un,’ cried another. 
‘ Lay the motions afore the meetin’.’ 

Becker was in close conversation with two beside 
him on the box, and the faces of the trio wore a look of 
dogged determination. 

‘ Well, men,’ said Becker, giving a short rap on the 
box with a stick in order to command attention. ‘ I 
s’pose the meetin’ had better begin. We’ve met here 
for to consider the state 0’ things at Hazell's, aren’t we?’ 

‘Yes, we are, an’ we will consider ’em, ay, an’ maybe act 
on ’em too,’ cried two or three in response, a statement 
which was received with general tokens of approbation. 

‘ Well, we’re agreed on that point, an’ on another as 
well, I guess,’ continued Becker. ‘ It’s the general 
opinion of this meetin’ that things is not as they should 
be at Hazell’s. I don’t s’pose any ov ye wishes me to 
say Hazell an’ Ford.’ 

A deep groan, not unmingled with a few curses, was 
tlie verdict on this question. 

‘ There was a time,’ said Becker, when the noise had 
again subsided, ‘ when ’twarn’t no bad thing to be a dray- 
man or workman of any kind at Hazell’s. That was in 
Mr. Robert’s time, at the beginning ov it, afore the black 
un got his finger in the pie. Three cheers for Mr. Robert.’ 


224 


HAZELL b* SONS, 


The cheers were heartily given, for the memory of 
Robert Hazell was still green and sweet among the 
brewery hands. 

* Ay, 'twas good enough then for any man ov us. 
There warn’t no grumblin’ at pay-days, nor no meddlin* 
wi* folks’ rent an’ sich-like, an’ always a kind word an’ 
smile to help us on. ’Twas a bad day for us all, mates, 
when tlie black ’un got the young master turned away. 
It’s gone on from bad to worse. We growled when the 
pays was all tuk down, ay, twice over, but we stopped 
on, an’ didn’t make no difference for the old name’s 
sake. But now it’s got to be more than flesh and blood 
can stand. We’ve been put upon till we ain’t fit to 
stand it, an’ we won’t. There ain’t nothing bad or mean, 
or stingy, that the black ’un hasn’t done to us ; an’ 
what we’ve mainly met ’ere to consider is how many ov 
us is goin’ to serve under the new rule. How many ov 
ye, mates, are goin’ to lift yer caps and bow down to 
the new partner, Mr. Michael Ford, Esquire, the new 
member of the firm ? * 

This ironical question was received with grim laughter, 
and with a general cry of ‘Not one ov us, Jemmy — not 
one ov us ! ’ 

‘ P’raps you’d all like to know who the new partner 
is ? ’ continued Becker in the same sarcastic tone. ‘ He 
belongs to a very haristocratic family — one ov the 
oldest families in Wiggin ! All the ladies ov the family 
’ave been famed for their strong arms an’ their long 
tongues at the pithead. We ought to give three cheers, 
mates, for the pithead girl’s son, who is our revered 
master, as we are his ’umble servants. But I must 
leave them *ighly interestin’ items a be, my mates, an’ 


FANNING THE FIRE. 


225 


get to business. Well, we all know wot has ’appened 
while the black ’un 'as been ’ere among us. He began 
w’ery ’umble — he was the under clerk as you’ll all 
remember, an’ because he’s been a sneak an’ a coward, 
he wormed himself round the old master until he knew 
a sight too much. To begin at the beginnin’, who kept 
Mr. Eobert out ov his own, an’ preventit him a-takin’ 
ov the Priory for his young wife, as sweet a young 
lady as ever stepped ? Who druv him away from the 
brewery ? Who made him take that beggarly situation 
at Burnley ? an’ who keeps him there at a servant’s 
wage ? Isn’t it our new master, mates, the black ’un, 
as we’ve christened ’im, an’ the name’s a sight too good 
for him yet ? 

‘Who kept the old master’s anger hot agin Mister 
Herbert when he married Gregory’s girl, an’ never 
rested till he got ’im sent across the seas ? That was 
the black ’un too, an’ then he got the field to hisself ; 
an’ wot we’ve got to consider now, mates, is what he’s 
done in that time down to now. It’s a pretty story, the 
pity as we’ve got it so well by ’eart, an’ that our wives 
an’ chillin ’ave got it so well by ’eart through their 
empty stomachs. You’ll all remember just afore the 
time when Mister Eobert got his leave there wur a talk 
o’ drainin’ the land all about the houses an’ a-givin’ us 
healthy air to breathe an’ dry places to sleep in. That 
was Miss Mary’s doin’, an’ but for the black ’un she’d ’a 
carried it through. She ’ad a woman’s ’eart to feel for 
us an’ the children. I’ll never forget how she came to 
see Susan there when little Dick w^as born, an’ the wine 
an’ stuff she sent from the house ; but the black ’un 
has put an end to all that. I s’pose he talked to the 


226 


HAZELL 6- SONS, 


old master, an’ told him we were a set o’ ungrateful, 
discontented dogs, as he has told us to our faces many a 
time ; an’ so the drains were never made, an’ the chillin 
kept on pinin’ away, and we got rheumatics in all our 
joints, an’ everything was bad an’ wrong, an’ there’s no 
redress. And now we come to the crownin’ point, 
which is that our rents has been riz for the third time 
in two year. Mates, are we or are we not goin’ to put 
another hard-earned sixpence a week into the black 
’un’s pocket ? The motion afore the meetin’ is that we 
refuse to pay the increase.’ 

‘ Yes, yes, we won’t pay, curse him ! the houses is too 
dear already. Holes fit for pigs, with the rain running 
down the walls, an’ the damp oozin’ up through the 
floors like to choke us. No, no, we won't pay another 
halfpenny ! we’ll quit first.’ 

‘ Show hands, all that’s for holdin’ out, then,’ said 
Becker, and in an instant one hundred were uplifted, 
foremost among them poor Susan’s skinny right arm, for 
this question was one of life or death to her. Her 
children, a sickly, puny lot, were dwining away before 
her very eyes into the grave. She herself had a hollow 
chest with a pain and a cough in it, which racked her 
feeble frame beyond its endurance. Her many cares, 
and brooding over her wrongs, had weakened her mind, 
and she was rea^y to join in any revolt. 

‘ The black ’un hatAs me, mates, an’ always has, since 
Miss Mary got the master to take me on again. The 
pit was bad enough, and little pay, but it wasn’t no 
worse than this, an’ a man had freedom to do his work. 
What do we get now for our work, mates ? Nothin’ 
but growls and scowls, an’ a good swearin’ for the least 


FANNING THE FIRE. 


227 


trifle. The very horses at Hazell’s knows the difference, 
an’ don’t step out as they used. I’ve watched ’em 
mysel’ walkin’ wi’ their heads bangin’, just as if they 
knew times was changed. In the old days Hazell’s 
drays were a sight, there were none handsomer stepped ; 
but now’ — Here Becker gave his head a melancholy 
shake. 

‘ You’re away from the pint. Jemmy. It’s whether 
we’re to quit or not ? ’ cried an impatient voice from 
the crowd. 

‘Well, to-day, as you know, Tim here an’ Joey an’ 
me went to the hoffice to make our complaint. We 
axed for the old master, but do you think we saw ’im ? 
No, the black ’un took care o’ that. So we said our 
say pretty strong, lads, Tim an’ me, to the black ’un, 
an’ without much show of humbleness. An’ now for 
what he said. I guess that’s wot we’re gathered 
together to hear, an’ decide upon.’ 

The crowd was now worked up into a state of breath- 
less excitement and suspense. 

* He said that if we weren’t pleased with our houses 
an* our wages, mates, that we could clear out as fast’s 
we liked, for he had a band o’ new hands waitin’ on 
the job. He said we’d been wasted an’ spiled with too 
much indulgence, an’ that he was a-goin’ to set his foot 
down on us now firm. Tim an’ Joey, warn’t these 
the words ? ’ 

‘ They were, curse *im ! * responded Tim, with a 
scowl, and a general exclamation of rage broke from the 
crowd. Could the new member of the firm only have 
heard what was being said about him, he might have 
trembled in his shoes. 


228 


HAZELL 6r* SONS, 


‘ It*s been like’s if the devil himself had entered 
into the black ’un this week/ continued Becker grimly, 
‘ an’ I’m goin’ to tell ye wot it means. Eosanna 
Keeling, wot is under-’ousemaid at the Hall, ’appened to 
overhear summat wot passed atween the black ’un an’ 
Miss Mary. He has got the right-about-face fra Miss 
Mary, mates, an’ Eosanna says all the things she said 
to him were just awful. She was as mad as mad could 
be ; an’ so, becos Miss Mary knows wot he is, an’ has 
told him without any varnish, he’s goin’ to do for the 
whole concern. Suppose we do for him instead, an’ 
save the old name an’ the old master ! * 

‘ Hurrah ! ’ 

The approbation ‘with which this proposition was 
received was not to be mistaken nor misunderstood. 
Michael Ford was hated with a deep, black, bitter 
hatred by the men whose master he had become. 

‘ If we’re to quit, — an’ I guess though we stayed on 
we’d find the new rule as bad as slavery, — but if we’re 
to quit we’d better sliow the black ’un wot we think o’ 
him. Shall we make a polite evenin’ call on Mr. 
Michael Ford, Esquire, of Hazell an’ Ford, at his 
residence in Mill Street?’ 

Becker had a command of sarcasm which his listeners 
greatly relished. Before the merriment occasioned by 
this sally had subsided, a new feature was introduced 
into the proceedings. Susan Becker, with a sudden 
gesture, stepped up on the platform beside her husband, 
and, throwing back her shawl, showed her sleeping 
infant to the crowd. 

‘ There hasn’t been half enough said,’ she cried 
shrilly. *You wants a woman to call things by their 


FANNING THE FIRE, 


229 


right name. It’s the women folk, anyway, who ’ave 
the worst of it. When I sees my babbies dyin’ by- 
inches afore my eyes, an’ know I’ve one fut in the 
grave, all through livin’ in sech a hole, I calls it 
murder, an’ I axes, what’s done to the man wot 
commits murder ? Isn’t he hanged by the law ? An’ 
if it is sech that the law can’t touch Ford, then, if 
you’re men, you’ll take law into yer own hands. Let’s 
give ’im a fright he won’t forget. Pull ’im through the 
river fra the brewery to here, an’ ax him how he likes 
the taste o’ the bad drainage — that’s wot I say.’ 

It was like pouring oil on the flames. As Susan 
stepped down a fearful hubbub arose. There was the 
sound of loud, excited voices, and bitter threats of 
revenge passed from mouth to mouth. Nobody could 
ever tell who suggested it first, but it was really Susan, 
who put a torch into one of her sons’ hands and bade 
him lead the way to the brewery. The thing was 
understood at once, and the heated imaginations were 
easily fired. Almost in an instant the crowd turned, 
as if by one accord, round by the head of the Eows to 
cross the piece of waste land behind the brewery. It 
was a beaten path which Hazell’s men, passing and 
repassing to their homes, liad made a kind of right-of- 
way, though in reality the gnjiind belonged to the town. 
It was a short cut; the distance between the brewery 
and the Lows could be covered in four or five minutes. 
When the proceedings of that night came to be 
investigated, it was asked where the police were that 
sucli a riot could take place out of their knowledge. 
It was then shown that the Rows, being outside the 
town, were not under surveillance, and also that the 


230 


HAZELL 6" SONS. 


rioters had taken the back road to the brewery, on 
which they were absolutely screened from observation. 
The pile of buildings was so extensive and so high that 
they made a perfect screen for any operations being 
carried on at the back premises. The policeman on his 
beat in J\lill Street said he heard nothing, but it 
transpired afterwards that he had been enjoying a 
drink of beer in the ‘ Base-Ball ’ at the very time when 
the rioters arrived at the brewery. Michael Ford was 
still living in the house above the offices, though the 
negotiations for the purchase of the Priory were still in 
motion. He was from home that night, but his house- 
keeper, alarmed by the barking of the watchdog, came 
hurrying down to see what was the matter ; and the 
night-watchman, smoking in his box, also peered out 
anxiously, and hearing the hubbub over the back-wall, 
went and opened the workmen’s door ; and then there 
was a brief space of unutterable confusion, as the men, 
women, and children poured into the enclosure. Nobody 
knew how or when or by what hand it had been done ; 
but not long after that smoke began to curl up to the 
dark night sky, and immediately one fierce flame made 
a lurid glare over the sea of faces in the place. 

‘ The black ’un will have to pay dear for his right to 
the brewery,’ whispered Becker, with a grim smile, as 
he pointed to the flames. The fierce wind sweeping 
across the open common fanned the fire, and within an 
hour, before any preventive measures could be taken, 
wind and flames together made the ruin of Hazel I s a 
certainty which no man could set aside. 



CHAPTEK XXII. 

THE cashier’s HOME. 


T was a pretty little room, the drawing-room 
of the cashier’s house at the Lady well mines. 
Certainly the view from the windows was 
not particularly beautiful, for it was a great 
mining district, and instead of green, low hills, there 
were mountains of black refuse to look out upon, varied 
by the tall chimneys and the clusters of works at the 
summits of the various shafts. There was a bit of 
garden attached to the house. There was nothing in it, 
liowever, but some blackened, stunted grass, which was 
an eyesore to the cashier and his wife. The house was 
commodious for a small family, and was well-finished 
within. The drawing-room was all that a tasteful 
woman’s skilful hands could make it, and was like a 
little picture, especially when a cheerful fire burned in 
the pretty tiled grate, which was an improvement they 
had added at their own expense. There were two 
windows draped in oriental muslin of negative tints, — 
Lucy Hazell was too good a housewife to attempt white 
lace or muslin in the atmosphere of Burnley, — but the 



232 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


effect was novel and artistic. The prevailing colour of 
the room was a delicate but serviceable shade of sage- 
green ; but it was relieved by many bright spots, and 
the pictures and ornaments were of the very best. 
There were a few sensible sorts of plants about, graceful 
palms and hardy ferns from the Clieveden greenhouse 
— no delicate flower survived long in Burnley. Lucy 
very much missed the wealth of cut flowers to which 
she had been accustomed at Clieveden, but she made 
the best of what she had. 

She was sitting embroidering a child’s frock towards 
the close of a November afternoon. The light was 
rapidly failing, and she had gone over to the window to 
catch the pale sunset glow for the last stitches of her 
work. The basinette, with her first-born son asleep in it, 
was standing on the hearthrug. As yet there was not a 
nursery in the cashier’s house, nor a nursemaid. One 
servant — a capable, energetic woman — was all their 
means would admit ; but Mrs. Eobert Hazell had been 
taught to use her hands. She looked very sweet and 
happy as she sewed on, weaving a mother’s fond hopes 
into her work. She was happy : her life was without a 
care. Their income was not large ; certainly it required 
skilful management to make it cover expenses and leave 
a margin, but what is hardly earned is always sweet, 
and the spending of it gives a peculiar pleasure. Eobert 
Hazell was doing a good work at Burnley, and the 
influence of the young couple, who had given up some- 
thing for conscience’ sake, was making itself felt among 
the miners. The sunset glory was very short-lived, and 
at length Mrs. Hazell had to lay her work down. She 
leaned back in her chair and watched for the sight of 


THE CASHIEHS HOME. 


233 


her husband coming down the cinder path between tlie 
shafts. It wanted but a few minutes of their dinner- 
hour. While she was watching, she caught sight of 
another figure coming in the opposite direction from the 
railway station — a young lady walking very smartly 
apparently towards their house. The light had grown so 
uncertain that Lucy did not recognise the lady at all, 
and waited with some curiosity until she rang the bell. 
She heard some one running up-stairs, two steps at a 
time, and the next minute Mary burst into the room 
with her face all aglow. 

‘ Mary, is it really, really you ? My darling, I am so 
glad to see you ! ’ 

They kissed each other and cried a little, as was 
natural. Eemember, they had not seen each other for 
more than a year, and that a great deal had happened 
in the interval. 

‘How did you come ? Did Mr. Hazell say you 
might ? ’ 

‘ No, he didn’t. He’ll be mad when he knows. But 
he’s in bed to-day, ill, and I didn’t ask him. Oh, Lucy 
Hazell, I’m so wretched I think I’ll die. I had to come 
and see Eobert. Where is he ? I hope he isn’t away 
from home, because I can’t stay long, and I may never 
have the chance to come back.’ 

‘ He will be in almost immediately, Mary. Dinner 
is just ready. Let me take off your hat. No, you shall 
not be bothered to go up-stairs. There now. Let me 
show you baby. Just think, you have never seen the 
darling.’ 

Lucy Hazell was a wise woman. Instead of asking 
a string of questions about what was troubling h^r 
16 


234 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


sister-in-law, she tried to divert her mind at once. 
Mary had never seen the new member of her brother’s 
household, and, catching sight of the cradle at that 
moment, she darted forward and knelt down beside it. 
Of course, it behoved the precious baby to wake up 
instantly and reveal his lovely eyes. Mary lifted him 
very tenderly from his warm nest, and her tears fell on 
his head. 

‘ So this is Eobert Meredith Hazell. God bless him 
and his dear mother for evermore,’ she said, and, leaning 
forward, she kissed Lucy with a sister s kiss. Then she 
sat down by the fire with the little one on her lap, and 
the two women fell into a womanly talk, and for a 
moment Mary forgot her own harassing care. So 
Eobert found them when he came in nearly half an hour 
late for dinner. 

‘ Mary, Mary, is it really you ? * His voice had a 
tremor in it as he took his sister to his heart. Even 
Lucy did not know how much he had felt the complete 
breach between him and his own kindred. It had been 
a trial of no ordinary kind for Eobert Hazell. 

‘'Xes, and she has seen b^^by and thinks him lovely. 
And now we are going to have dinner, and be as happy 
as possible, and forget care for a little,’ said Lucy 
quickly, seeing that a question was on her husband’s 
lips. ‘ Oh, Mary, had I only known of your coming, 
what would I not have made for dinner in honour of you ! 
Can you take stewed beef and a very plain pudding ? ’ 

‘ A dry crust from you, Lucy, would taste sweet, 
because it would be flavoured with love,’ answered Mary, 
with a tremulous smile. 

So they went down together to the cosy little dining- 


THE CASH/EE’S HOME. 


235 


room, and IMary broke bread for the first time at her 
brother s table. They were very tender with her, for 
they saw that her heart was sore about something, and 
they would do all that love could to lighten her care. 

‘ Now, Eobert and you can liave the drawing-room for 
your quiet talk,’ said Lucy, when they rose from the table 

" You will come too, Lucy ; I have no secrets from 
Bob’s wife/ said Mary affectionately. 

‘ Oh, I’ll be coming out and in with baby, and I’ll be 
listening too,’ said Lucy, with a nod and a smile. 

Eobert was a trifle anxious. He saw that Mary was 
excited, and he had heard of late many rumours con- 
cerning the affairs of his own people. But he was hardly 
prepared for what Mary had to tell him. 

‘ Oh, Bob, I have been so longing to see you. Things 
are so terrible at home. You have heard, of course, that 
the firm is changed,’ she began, the moment they had 
entered the drawing-room. 

Eobert started. ‘ No, I have been down at Wigan 
for a week, and only returned yesterday, so I have 
heard no news. What has happened ? ’ 

* It is Hazell & Lord now, and that fearful man has 
got papa completely in his power. I believe we are 
nearly beggars.’ 

‘ Oh, nonsense, Molly ! It is quite impossible in so 
short a time.’ 

^ It is quite true. You know papa has been getting 
weaker and weaker of late. His intellect is not at all 
what it was. I believe that it was Ford who taught 
papa to take too much. At least I am sure that he 
encouraged him in it, so that he might get a firmer hold.’ 

‘ And the fellow has got himself made a partner,’ said 


236 


HA ZELL h* SONS. 


Robert. ‘Well, upon my word, he has made a rapid 
rise. He is clever enough anyhow; but how do you 
know that papa’s affairs are in an embarrassed state ? ’ 

‘ Papa told me first/ said Mary, and her colour 
heightened ; ‘and that odious creature told me too. Oh, 
Robert, I do not know how I am to tell you it all. 
lie has asked me to marry him, and papa wishes it, 
and I fear I must, to save papa from ruin, though 
1 would rather die.* 

Robert Hazell’s colour rose also, it was with anger, 
not with embarrassment. 

‘ My darling, don’t distress yourself. It is needless. 
Marry Ford ! That would be a pretty story. Why 
did you not come to me long since ?’ 

‘ Oh, I daren’t ! You don’t know papa. He gets 
into such fearful passions if we do the least thing. 
I daren’t have come. For myself, I would not have 
minded his anger much, but it made mamma so ill to 
have these scenes. We were glad to be meek and 
humble for peace’ sake. That man and drink together, 
Rob, have ruined Hazelwood. I wish papa had been 
anything but a brewer.* 

Robert Hazell said nothing in reply. He was walk- 
ing up and down the room, with his brows knit, and 
his gloomy eyes fixed on the floor. He was reproaching 
himself for leaving the old name and the old home to 
the mercy of that unprincipled man, and yet there had 
seemed no other course open to him at the time. He 
had had no idea of the hold the love of strong drink 
had over his father, nor any idea either of the influence 
Michael Ford wielded, even in his day, in the brewery. 
He could scarcely credit the story Mary had come to telL 


THE CASHIEHS HOME, 


237 


* When did you learn all this, Mary ; or, ratlier, 
when did things come to a crisis ? * he asked presently. 

‘ Last week — Friday it was — the day we got Bertie’s 
letter. Ford came to dinner that night, but, before he 
came, papa called me to the library, and told me he 
wished me to listen fav’^ourably to his new partner. 
Mr. Ford had his say after dinner.* 

Mary’s lip curled at the remembrance of it. 

‘I can guess what your answer was,* said Eobert, 
with a slight smile. 

‘ It surprised the new member of the firm consider- 
ably,* said Mary significantly. *He had some plain 
truths told him. I only hope he laid them to heart. 
He made use of all kinds of threats, and said he would 
beggar us all. I rang for Kitty to show him out at 
last. Wasn’t that frightful then, Eobert, to do to the 
new member of the firm ? * 

‘ It served him right ; I only wish I had been there 
to give him a little assistance down-stairs,* said Eobert, 
with energy. 

‘ I mustered all the scorn I could to crush him. He 
looked mean enough. He was frightfully angry, and I 
hear that there never have been such scenes at the 
brewery as there have been this week. The people are 
in a state of smouldering rebellion, which will soon 
become active. He wants to clear out the Eows, he 
says, and draft in new men from the north. .So he is 
taking every means he can to aggravate them. The rents 
are raised again, and he will not pay a farthing of over- 
time. He is a perfect slave-driver. What is to be done?* 

‘ What does papa say now ? He knows, of course, 
what answer you gave that precious scoundrel ? ’ 


238 


IIAZELL 6- SONS. 


‘ Oil yes, because I told him every word. He went 
to the brewery next day, and has been quite ill 
ever since. I believe there was a scene. Eobert, it 
makes my blood boil when I see how terrified papa is 
for Ford.’ 

‘I shall put an end to that,’ said Eobert, with that 
quiet decision which of yore had carried such weight 
with it. ‘ Before we are twenty-four hours older, Mr. 
Ford and I will understand each other. If there is no 
other course open, I will advise papa to retire from the 
concern entirely ; and I shall see that Mr. Ford gets 
no mure than his deserts.’ 

‘ Oh, he will take everything, I believe. He is such 
a man, Eobert ! It is impossible to get the belter of 
him ! ’ 

* I will see at least that he docs not get the better 
of me,’ said Eobert, and his eyes gleamed. He was 
thoroughly roused, and he saw that immediate action of 
some kind was absolutely necessary. 

* And now, how are you to get home ? Can you stay 
all night ? ’ 

‘ No, I daren’t ; mamma was in terror lest papa should 
ask where I had gone. I don’t believe he will see you 
when you come. Ford has poisoned his mind so against 
both Bertie and you. He seems to be convinced that 
you robbed him and took advantage of him when you 
were in the brewery. Oh, it is a miserable business 
from beginning to end ! ’ 

*Its end has come any way,’ said Eobert gravely. 
* Are you there, Lucy ? ’ 

‘ Yes, here, dear. Baby has had his bath, and Susie 
will give him his supper. My little maid is quite 


THE CASHIERS S HOME. 


239 


a treasure, Mary. Well, have you had a nice 
talk ? ’ 

‘ Ask Bob. Til ere isn’t anything very nice in it, 
Lucy,’ said Mary, with her nervous smile. * But it has 
been an immense relief to me. Be thankful you have 
a solid, sensible husband, Lucy. It is a necessary 
refuge for the female mind.’ 

‘ Am I not thankful and happy ? * asked Lucy, with 
a sweet, tender smile, which found an answering 
tenderness in her husband’s eyes. 

‘ Lucy is an angel, Mary,’ he said quickly. ‘ Look 
what I have given her in exchange for Clieveden, which 
you used often to say was an earthly paradise! And 
yet she is happy. She would even try to make me 
believe she prefers this little box to any place she has 
ever seen or heard of.’ 

*So I do. Oh, Robert, how can you say such 
things ? ’ asked Lucy, with a smile and a tear. 

* Bless you, my children,’ said Mary, with a touch of 
her old humour. ‘ When you come over to Hazelwood, 
Bob, be sure you bring Lucy and the baby to aid the 
assault. Perhaps Robert Meredith Hazell will win the 
day with his grandfather. And now I must go away 
home.’ 

‘ You and Lucy can have a confab while I get the 
gig. Yes, we are quite grand. Mr. Edwardes keeps a 
light trap here, and the use of it is mine, or Lucy’s 
rather. She wheedled it out of him with that smile of 
hers. I’ll drive you over, and we can talk by the 
way.’ 

In half an hour Mary was sitting by her brother’s 
side in the coalmaster’s gig, and the high-spirited horse 


240 


HAZELL SONS. 


was making short work of the hilly road betwixt 
Burnley and Medlington. 

‘ See, Bob, what a curious glare is in the sk;/. Is 
that not at Medlington ? * said Mary suddenly, as they 
mounted the crest of the last hill, and the whole valley 
of the Med was before them. 

‘ Yes, it’s at Medlington, Mary,’ said Kobert slowly. 

‘ There’s a fire somewhere.’ 

He did not express the apprehension which took 
possession of him. They both watched in silence the 
sullen glow overspreading the dark night sky, until 
they had driven another mile, and then the flames and 
smoke came in sight. 

‘ It is the brewery, Marj’ ; don’t you think so ? ’ 

‘ I am afraid of it,’ said Mary, growing very white, and 
cowering close into her brother. ‘ What can it mean ? ’ 

‘ I suspect it is the work of revenge, if the people 
are in the state you described to me,’ said Kobert. 
‘ We. had better drive round that way. We may be 
in time to prevent further mischief. I believe I could 
command attention yet ; and they adore you. See, 
Mary, the offices are in flames. It is a mighty 
burning.’ 

Ay, it was a mighty burning, and by the time they 
reached the place there was nothing left of the Hazell 
brewery but the falling walls. The fire, fanned by the 
night wind, had done its work well. 

Michael Ford was flying about the ruins like a 
madman, and when the gig with the brother and sister 
drove up, he cursed them both, and all of the name of 
Hazell, in words which haunted those who heard it to 
their dying day. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 
all’s well. 


HE brewery, unfortunately, was not fully in- 
sured, and the loss was very considerable. 
As was to be expected, the loss fell mere 
heavily on the new partner, who, in spite of 
all his boasting, had not got his fingers upon Mr. 
Hazell’s capital. He had received large sums from 
him at various times certainly ; and had, to use that 
expressive phrase, feathered his nest well; but the 
destruction of building, plant, and stock was a calamity 
he had not looked for. He tore up to Hazelwood, like 
a madman, the morning after the fire, and demanded an 
interview with Mr. Hazell. He was shown into the 
library, where, in a few minutes, Robert came to him. 
He had sent a message home with the gig, and remained 
all night at Hazelwood, but had not yet seen his father, 
who was confined to his bedroom, and knew nothing of 
what had occurred. 

‘Well, sir,’ said Robert, as he closed the door and 
faced the irate little creature standing at the window. 
His manner as he spoke was cold, curt, and distant in 

241 



242 


HAZELL SONS, ' 


the extreme : he did not even give him a sign of 
recognition. 

* Well, too,’ quoth Mr. Ford rudely. * I did not ask 
for you, did I ? It’s the old man I want to see.’ 

‘ You can’t see him,’ said Robert shortly. ‘ Please 
say what you have to say, and go. There can be no 
welcome for you, sir, in this house.’ 

Mr. Ford absolutely glared, but somehow he felt 
afraid of Robert Hazell. He was quiet, but determina- 
tion sat on every feature. The plotter and schemer 
knew in a moment that his reign was over. 

‘ Oh, there can’t, can’t there ? And why not, pray ? 
I’ve come to know the meaning of last night’s pretty 
business. I believe you all know more of it than you’ll 
admit : your high and mighty sister ’ — 

‘ If you mention my sister’s name again. I'll kick 
you out of the house. I’m a man of my word,’ said 
Robert savagely. 

Mr. Ford shifted uneasily from one foot to another, 
but his demeanour became quieter. 

* Well, them that did it will have their deserts. If 
that Becker doesn’t get seven years, there won’t be 
justice in the land. What’s the governor saying to it, 
eh ? — a nice dish for his breakfast, wasn’t it ? How 
does he like the sight he sees now from his bedroom 
window, instead of the thriving colony he was so 
proud of ? ’ 

‘ My father is too ill to take much interest in any- 
thing,’ responded Robert. * You cannot see him. I 
must refer you to Mr. Atkins, the attorney, if you 
want to speak about legal business. In any other 


AZrS WELL, 


243 


matter T act as my father’s representative, and I have 
no desire to prolong this interview.’ 

* ‘ Oh, that’s how it is, is it ? ’ queried Ford sneeringly. 
‘ Well, if you’re to act for the old man ’ — 

‘ Mr. Hazell, if you please,’ put in Kobert stiffly. 

‘ Well, Mr. Hazell, then. What I want to know is, 
what damages I’m to get for last night’s work ? Of 
course it falls heaviest on me, for my interest as partner 
was chiefly in what was demolished by these scoundrels. 
That’s the question Mr. Hazell will have to decide as 
soon as he’s able, and before the question of rebuilding 
comes on.* 

‘ Whoever may rebuild, my father will not,* returned 
Eobert quietly. ‘ He will retire from business now. 
As to the question about damages, it is too absurd. 
You took your interest in the concern with all its risks. 
There is no use wasting time in foolish talk. I expect 
all connection between you and the name of Hazell to be 
now ended. I must congratulate yon, sir, on what you 
have made of it. You wTll not quit the firm a poor 
man ; but whether you are an honourable one or not 
is another matter. I reserve my opinion. Good morn- 
ing, Mr. Ford.* 

Ford was about to speak again, but Eobert shook his 
head and walked out of the room. And what could 
the junior partner do but accept his dismissal, grinding 
his teeth with rage as he went. Eobert had carried 
things with a high hand indeed. He had taken a great 
deal upon himself, and had acted for his father with a 
decisive promptitude that gentleman would scarcely 
have had the courage to display before Michael Ford 


244 


HAZELL <5r» SONS, 


Robert’s jodgraent was sound, and he was quite willing 
to bear the consequences of his morning’s work. 

He met Mary in the hail. She had been out of 
doors, and her face was flushed with walking through 
the sharp morning air. She had a bunch of bright 
holly-berries and Christmas roses — the first of the 
season — in her hand. 

‘ Robert, what have you been saying to him ? * 
she asked, almost gleefully. ‘ I saw him go in and 
come out, and there was a beautiful change in his 
demeanour.’ 

‘ He knows my sentiments now ; that is all, Molly. 
I don’t think we shall have much further trouble with 
Michael Ford,’ returned Robert, with a dry smila 
* "VVill you go up and inquire whether papa will see me. 
I can’t stay much longer, though I could come back 
after I see to some things at Lady well.’ 

* Just go up alone, Bob. It is often better to do 
these things without preparation. Papa is awake, and 
up. Madeline took him his breakfast long since. No 
doubt he knows now what has happened. I am sure 
he will be thankful and glad to see you.’ 

Robert took her advice, and went up at once to his 
father’s room. He was in the dressing-room, and had 
his chair wheeled close to the window, from which he 
was mournfully contemplating the smouldering ruins of 
the brewery. He had not appeared much distressed 
by the news, which Lena had gently broken to him 
when she brought him his morning chocolate. Perhaps 
he was not very greatly surprised. He looked round 
hurriedly at the opening of the door, and there was a 


ALLS WELL, 


245 


nervousness in both look and mabner which quickly 
gave place to surprise and unmistakable relief. 

‘ It’s you, Robert, my boy ! Come in, come in. I — I 
thought it was Ford. I told them I couldn’t see him 
if he came. Sit down, sit down.’ 

It was a curious meeting. They shook hands as 
naturally and unconcernedly as if they had parted only 
yesterday ; but Robert was inwardly affected by the 
grievous change in his father’s appearance. He was 
quite a broken-down old man. 

‘ When did you come ? ’ 

‘ I have been here all night. I drove over from 
Ladywell last night,’ returned Robert. 

‘ Ay, ay. I suppose the fire would be visible from 
Ladywell. A fine night’s work, eh ? ’ asked the old 
man, with a feeble smile, as he pointed to the ruins. 

‘ It’ll be a fine disappointment for Ford. But it’s his 
doing, all his doing. I warned him he was oppressing 
the folk. Flesh an 1 blood can only stand a certain 
amount, but he is as headstrong as he is tyrannical 
Ah, Bob, it is a bad thing to let a servant know too 
much or get too firm a hold. I see now the mistake I 
made with you and Bertie. I’d undo the past, my lad, 
if I could ’ — 

‘ Don’t reproach yourself, father,’ said Robert cheer- 
fully. * Neither Bertie nor I have had any reason to 
regret it. I like my work at Burnley famously.’ 

‘ Ay ; and you have a little son, Eleanor told me. 
What do you call him ? ’ 

‘ We named him for you and for Lucy’s father — 
Robert Meredith Hazell.’ 


246 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


‘ Ah, well, if he "turns out as well as his father he 11 
be worth the trouble of rearing him. You’ve always 
been a good boy. Bob, and 1 didn’t do the right thing 
by you. It was tlie drink, nothing but the drink — it 
poisons the very nature of a man. You’ll bring up 
your boy to abhor it. Tell him it ruined his grand- 
father in his old age. I've been taking myself to task 
these few days, lying in my bed. What a life I’ve led 
these women -folk lately ! Bob, your sister’s a brick. 
She gave him the right-about-face and no mistake.’ 

The old man shook with silent laughter at the 
remembrance of that night. 

‘ I hoped she’d do it ; and ) et he threatened all sorts 
of things if she wouldn’t have him. I’m glad all this 
has happened. He had too tight a hold. I could 
scarcely call my soul my own. You won’t let him in 
upon me if he comes. I have no strengtli. He can 
make me do anything.’ 

Eobert’s heart was full of pity at the pathetic weak- 
ness his father displayed. 

‘He will not come back in a hurry, sir. He has 
been here this morning. I have just come up from 
showing him out, after a few plain remarks.’ 

‘ No ! ’ Mr. Hazell sat up in his chair, with eager, 
excited interest. ‘ What did you say ? ’ 

‘ He was beginning in a very high-handed fashion, 
but I stopped him. I told him that he could settle 
any legal business with Atkins, and that I, as your 
representative, declined to have any further talk with 
him.* 

Tears — tears of relief — actually started in the old 


AZrS WELL 


247 


man’s eyes, and he gripped his son’s hand in his nerve- 
less fingers. 

‘ I told him you would not rebuild the brewery, and 
that you would probably retire immediately from busi- 
ness/ 

‘ Oh, my son ! There’s a load lifted off my mind. 
Do you know I have lived in terror of that man ? 
I believe in another six months he would have cleaned 
me out.’ 

‘ But you have still plenty ? ’ queried Eobert, not 
without anxiety. ‘ He had threatened Mary with turn- 
ing you all out of Hazelwood — a vain threat, surely ? ’ 

‘ Oh yes, the place is all right ; and there’s the 
Amaranth bonds, worth a thousand a year at any rate. 
I’ve given him in all, I think, about three thousand 
pounds since you left — a nice nest-egg for him, isn’t it ? ’ 

‘Ay, the villain. He talked about giving Becker seven 
years ; he deserves such a sentence ten times more 
richly. We must try to get these men off as easily as 
possible, father.’ 

‘ Oh yes. I’ll see to it. I’ll be able to see to any- 
thing, now that this frightful incubus is lifted from my 
shoulders,’ said the old man ; and indeed he looked as 
if new life had come to him. It was a mystery to 
Eobert Hazell how Ford had ever acquired such an 
influence over a man of his father’s character and nature. 
The solution of the mystery was to be found in that 
all-powerful bottle which Ford had kept within constant 
reach in the private room at the brewery. 

‘ I’m going to turn over a new leaf, Eobert, in my 
old age. I’ve made up my mind that I shall drink no 


248 


HAZELL SONS, 


more. And whoever rebuilds the brewery, as you said, 
I never shall. How did you know so well what I 
intended ? ’ 

* I hoped you would be persuaded,* returned Kobert, 
as he rose to, go. * Well, I must go home. I may give 
your love to Lucy and the boy, I suppose. Perhaps 
you’ll come in some day when you are able to drive as 
far?* 

‘Ay will I. I have something to make up to you 
and yours, Bob. I’ve been a foolish, wicked old man. 
May God have mercy on me for my sins ! ’ 

‘ Brighter days are at hand, father,’ said Robert, and 
his eyes were dim. ‘ Good-bye. Keep up your heart. 
We’ll see you a hale, hearty man yet.’ 

Mary was restlessly pacing the passages and stairs 
awaiting the result of the interview. She met Robert 
on the landing, and slipped her arm through his. 

‘ It is all right, dear. The sun has risen over Hazel- 
wood,* he said, as he stooped to kiss her. ‘ Say good- 
bye, and let me go. Go to papa now. I believe he 
must have a great deal to say to you.’ 

When Mary entered the room she found her father 
sitting by the window, looking out with a far-away 
expression in his eyes. 

‘ Is that you, wife ? * 

‘ Ho, it is I, papa,’ returned Mary softly. ‘ Mamma 'a 
not down yet. She feels very nervous after her excite- 
ment. May I tell her you are so much better ? * 

‘ Yes ; tell her I hope, with the grace of God, that I 
am a changed man. Kiss me, my darling, and tell me 
if you forgive me.* 


ALLS WELL, 


*49 


‘ Hush, oh hush ! there can never be any talk of 
forgiveness between us two,* said Mary, as she bent over 
his chair. 

‘ Do you know what I have been thinking since Robert 
went out ? That I have had good, dutiful children, and 
was not grateful for my blessings. I will try now to 
show what I think of my children. I have been a poor 
father to them.’ 

Mary laid one hand on his lips, and with the other 
smoothed away the grey hair from his brow. 

* How quickly one’s thoughts travel I have made 
fifty plans this morning. Shall I tell you the latest ? 
I am planning a trip to the New World for mamma and 
Madeline and you and me, to visit Bertie and his wife. 
Suppose we leave after the New Year, and Robert and 
his wife will live here in our absence ; and he can drive 
daily to and from Lady well, if he has not made a change 
before then. Wouldn’t that be a pleasant change of 
scene for us all ? * 

But Mary only answered with her teara 
• • • • 

Mr. Hazell’s proposal became an accomplished fact, 
and soon after the New Year the party sailed for the 
New World. In the interval the affairs of the brewery 
had been wound up, but Michael Ford, wisely judging 
that he had coined a good penny, which he had better 
take care of, did not present any claim. He disap- 
peared from Medlington, and as yet there is no talk of 
the brewery being rebuilt The ringleaders in the work 
of incendiarism got off with a light imprisonment, there 
being no prosecuting parties ; and Mr, Hazell took good 
17 


250 


HAZELL 6- SONS. 


care that their wives and families should not suffer 
during the incarceration. Employment was afterwards 
found for them ; some of them, Becker among the rest, 
found occupation at Burnley, where they were under 
the kindly eye of Mr. Robert. Money can do much. 
Robert is no longer cashier, but a large shareholder in 
the ownership of the Ladywell mines. He will occupy 
Hazelwood during the term of his father’s absence, and 
then the Priory will become his home. So time will 
bring him to the fulfilment of an early dream. Wherever 
Robert and Lucy Hazell may set up their family altar, 
be it in humbleness or in affluence, it will be a sanctuary 
to the Lord. The children born and reared at their 
fireside cannot but grow up good men and women with 
such an example before them. 

And what of Mary ? Is she, so eminently fitted to 
grace any station, to walk alone through life ? I am 
not writing the history of Mary Hazell or of Madeline 
Rayna They are both young, life is all before them. 
No doubt each will find her happiest sphera So we 
will say farewell 


Glossary of Scotch Words 


A», all. 

Abe, be. 

A b 0 0 n (or, abane), 
above. 

Aboot, about. 

Adae, either. 

A^one; only. 

An, off. 

Aff-pittin’, putting off. 
Aff-putten, cast off. 
AibLins, perhaps. 

Ain, own. 

Aince (or, ance), once. 
Airth, earth. 

Amang, among. 

Ane, one. 

Anent, concerning. 
Anither, another. 

A’ t h i n g, all things ; 

every thing. 

Auld, old. 

Ava’. at all. 

Awa’, away. 

Bade, staid. 

Bairn, child. 

Baith, both. 

Bannet, bonnet. 

Bauld, bold. 

Bawbee, a half-penny. 
Behauden, beholden. 
Ben, in. 

Ben-end, parlor or sit- 
ting-room ; kitchen. 
Bide, stay. 

Biggin, building, house. 
Biuna, be not ; is not. 
Birr, to make a whirring 
noise. 

Bluid, blood. 

Bode, sanie as bade, 
staid. 

Bonnie, or bonny, beau- 
tiful. 

Bonnieness, cleverness. 
Bothy, hut, cottage. 

Brae, a hill-slope, ao- 
clivitv. 

Braw. nne. 

Brawly, finely ; well. 
Braid, broad. 


Bricht, bright. 

Brither, brother. 

Brocht, brought. 

Brunt, burned. 

Buik, book. 

Buirdly, stout ; broad- 
made. 

Bund, bound. 

Burn (or, bumie), rlyn- 
let. 

But and ben, back room 
and sitting-room. 
Byre, cow-stable ; sheep- 
pen. 

Cairn, a mound of 
stones. 

Canna, can not. 

Canny, gentle; well-dis- 
posed. 

Cauld, cold. 

Ceevil, civil. 

Certy, for certain, sure ; 
indeed. 

Chairge, charge. 

Chap, tap ; thrum. 
Cheep, chirp ; a word. 
Chiel (or, chield,) young 
man. 

Claes, clothes. 

Claith, cloth. 

Clash, talk; oonyerse; 

gossip. 

Clud, cloud. 

Coont, count. 

Course, course. 

Crack, talk ; gossip. 
Cratur, creature. 

Craw, crow. 

Creepie, stool ; hassock. 
Crood, crowd. 

Croon, crown. 

Croose (or, crouse,) pert ; 
bold. 

Cutty, short; small in 
stature. 

Dae, do. 

Daffing, sporting. 

Daft, foolish ; mad. 
Dauchter, daughter. 


Daur, dare. 

Daurna, dare not. 

Daw tie, darling; one 
doated on. 

Deave, deafen. 

Dee, die. 

Deed (or, deid), dead. 
Denty, dainty. 

Didna, did not. 

Dinna, do not. 

Diana, does nol 
Div, do. 

Docnter, daughter. 
Donnert, stupid. 

Doo, dove. 

Dool, grief, trouble. 
Doon, down. 

Doot, doubt. 

Douce, grave; serious. 
Dour, grim. 

Dowie, sad. 

Dreich, slow; tedious. 

D r 0 o k i t, drenched ; 

drowned. 

Droon, drown. 

Drucken, drunk. 
Dumbfoondered, amazed. 
Dune, done. 

Dwine, dwindle. 

En (or, e’e), eye. 

Een (or, e’en), eyes. 
Eerie, timorous ; afraid. 
Efter, after. 

Efternune, afternoon. 

E m b r o, Edinboro’ ; 
Edinburgh. 

Eneuch (or, eneugh), 
enough. 

Ettle, intend; aim at; 
attempt. 

Even doon, downright. 

Faithkr, father. 

Farl, cake. 

Fash, trouble ; annoy. 
Fashious, helpless 
Faur, far. 

Faut, fault. 

Fecht, fight. 

1 


GLOSSARY OF SCOTCH WORDS. 


Feckless, worthless; 
feeble. 

Fecklessness, careless- 
ness. 

Fell, keen or keenly. 
Fend, provide. 

Ferlie, wonder (con- 
temptuously); a fancy. 
Fesh, fetch. 

Fit, foot. 

Flichter, flutter. 

Flooer, flower. 

Flure, floor. 

Flyte, scold. 

Foondry, foundry. 
Forebear (or, forbear), 
ancestress ; ancestor. 
Forbye, besides. 
Foment, opposite. 
Forrit, forward. 

Foucht, fought. 

Frae, from. 

Freend, friend. 

Frem, strange. 

Fricht, fright. 

Fule, fool. 

Fusliionless, incompe- 
tent. 

Gae, go. 

Gaed, went. 

Gafler, direct. 

Gait, way. 

Gane, gone. 

Gang, go. 

Gar, make. 

Gawn, going. 

Gear, goods ; property. 
Gen ty, elegantly formed; 

neat; high-bred. 

Gey, very ; pretty. 
Geyan, very. 

Gie, give. 

Gien, given. 

Gif (or, gin), if. 

Girn, grin ; snarl at. 

G 1 a ike t, thoughtless ; 
foolish. 

Glisk, glimpse. 
Gloaming, twilight. 
Gomeril, fool ; dolt ; 

blockhead. 

Goon, gown. 

Go wan, wild daisy. 

G rabbit, grabbed. 

Grat, cried. 

Grawn, grand. 

Greet, cry. 

Grue, shudder ; shiver. 
Grund, ground. 

Gude (or, guid), good. 
Gump, wade. 


Hae, have. 

Haen, had. 

Haena, have not. 

Hail (or, hale), whole. 
Hairst, harvest. 

Hame, home. 

H a n 1 1 e, a handful ; 

much ; many. 

Hasna, has not. 

Haud, hold. 

Havena, have not. 

Heidj head. 

Helpit, helped. 

Hing, hang. 

Hinna, have not. 

Hizzie, young woman ; 

tom-boy. 

Hoo, how. 

Hoolet, owl ; owlet. 
Hooly, slowly. 

Hooly ! take leisure ; 
stop ! 

Hoose, house. 

Hopit, hoped. 

Houp, hope. 
Howdy-hole, closet. 

Ho win, hoeing. 

Hubble, confusion. 

Ilk or ilka, each ; every. 
Intae (and, intil), into. 
Ither, other. 

JiMPY, little ; neat ; 

slender. 

Jist, just. 

KEBBUCK,'a cheese-cake. 
Keek, peep; look 
sharply. 

Keepit, kept. 

Ken, know. 

Kenna, know not. 
Kennin’, knowing. 

Kent (or, kenned), 
known, knew. 

Kep, cape. 

Kin try, country. 

Kirn, harvest home ; 

harvest feast. 

Kittle^ ticklish ; nice ; 

intricate. 

Kye, cows, 

Laird, lord ; a land-pro- 
prietor. 

Lairn, learn, 

Lammie, little lamb. 
Lane (his, her, its, etc.), 
alone. 

Lang, long. 

Lauch, laugh. 


Lave, remainder ; rest. 
Leddy, lady. 

Leal, loyal ; faithful. 
Lee, lie. 

Len’, loan. 

Leeve, live. 

Licht, light. 

Lichtlie, sneer at ; treat 
with contempt. 
Lichtit, lighted. 

Likit, liked. 

Liuimer, a wanton. 
Lippen, trust, 

Lookit, looked. 

Lug, ear. 

Lum, chimney. 

Ma. my. 

Mair, more. 

Malst, most. 

Maister, master. 

Maitter, matter. 

Mane, fuss ; ado. 

Maun, must. 

Maunua, must not. 
Micht, might. 
Midden-dyke, garden 
wall: ditch. 

Mirk, dark. 

Mi ther, mother. 

Mony, many. 

Moosie, mouse. 

Mou’, mouth. 

Muckle, much. 

Muirland, moor. 
Mune-licht, moon-light. 

Na (or, nae), no, not. 
Nae, none. 

Naebody, nobody. 
Naething, nothing. 
Neebor, neighbor. . 
Needna, need not. 

Neist, next. 

Nicht, night. 

Noo, now : at the noo, 
at present ; at once. 

OcHT, aught. 

Ongauns, goings on'; 

doings. 

Ony, any. 

Oo, yes. 

’Ooman, woman. 

Oor, our. 

Got (or, ooten), out; 
out of. 

Oucht, ought. 

Ower, over. 

Oxter, arm -pit. 

Paidl’t, paddled. 


GLOSSARY OF SCOTCH WORDS. 


Ill 


Pat, pol 

Patrick (or, paitrick), 
partridge. 

Peety, pity. 

Pit, put. 

Pleeshure, pleasure. 
Pooer, power. 

Poo’rless, powerless. 
Prig, cheapen ; dispute. 
Prood, proud. 

Puir, poor. 

Putten, put. 

Quate, quiet. 

Quean, servant - maid ; 
young woman. 

Bael, real. 

Reek, smoke. 

Reem, run over. 

Richt, right. 

Bin, run. 

Roond, round. 

Roup, sale. 

Rowan, the mountain 
ash. 

Rowth, plenty. 

Sak, so. 

Sair, sore ; very, 

Saut, salt. 

Scone, cake. 

Scoor, scour. 

Shoon, shoes. 

Sic (or, siccan), such. 
Sicht, sight. 

Siller, silver. 

Simmer, summer. 

Sin, since ; after. 

Sinsyne, afterward. 
Skelly, squint. 

Skep, hive for bees. 
Slippit, slipped. 
Smeddum, spirit; met- 
tle. 

Snell, biting; severs; 
sharp. 

Socht, sought. 

Sodger, solder. 


Spate, flood. 

Speer (or, spier), ask 
for; inquire. 

Speerit, spirit. 

Stanes, stones. 

Steer, stare. 

Stoop, a prop; a post 
fixed in the earth. 
Stoory, dusty; stormy. 
Stoppit, stopped. 

Stour, dust. 

Stracht (or, strecht), 
straight. 

Stravage, wander or 
stray. 

Stude (or, studer), stood. 
Sune, soon. 

Sutteo, set. 

Syne, after ; ago. 

Tae, to. 

Tapsalteerie, topsy- 
turvy. 

Tatties, potatoes. 

Telt, told. 

Tempit, tempted. 

Thack, thatch. 

Thae, those. 

Thegither, together. 
Thocht, thought. 

Thole, bear ; endure. 
Thon, those. 

Thowless, slack ; laay ; 
heedless. 

Thrapple, throat ; wind- 

T^r^ (or, throw), twist; 

quarrel ; he cross. 
Thrawn, cross; perverse; 

quarrelsome. 
Thrawnness, perversity. 
Thraid, thread. 

Till, to. 

Toon, town. 

Twa, two. 

Twar, twelve. 

Unkent, unknown. 
Unco, very, strange. 


Unneehorly; unneigh- 
hoiiy. 

Uphaud, uphold. 

Vkrka, very. 

Wad (or, wud), would. 
Waddin’, wedding. 

Wae, sorrowful ; sad. 
Waggit, wagged. 

Wan tit, wanted. 

Wark, work. 

Warld, world. 

Warst, worst. 

Warstle, struggle. 

Waur, worse. 

Weans, babes ; children. 
Wechty, weighty. 

Wee, little. 

Weel, well. 

Whae, who. 

Whan, when. 

Whatten, what; which 
one. 

Whaur, where. 

Wheen, a number; a 
good deal. 

Wneesht, be calm, hush. 
Whiles (or, whyles), 
sometimes. 

Whing, cry ; complain ; 
fret. 

Winna, will not. 
Withhaud, withhold. 
Workit, worked. 

Wrang, wrong. 

Wudna, would not. 

Wull, will. 

Wullint, willing. 
Wunner, wonder. 

Wush, wish. 

Yammer (or, yauraer), 
fret ; scold. 

Yestreen, yester even- 
ing. 

Yett, gate. 

Yirls, earls. 

Yont, heyond. 


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